The Truth Is the Light (5 page)

Chapter 7

“D
addy, I just want to thank you for coming,” Clarence said to his father in the church's vestibule when the two of them met up after the rest of his family had gone home. His mother had volunteered to take Gramps back to the nursing home.

“Sure. I'm glad I was able to make it,” Reverend Walker said.

“So what happened to your other engagement?”

Reverend Walker hesitated a few seconds. “It was something I was able to do at another time. So, that's what I decided to do.”

Clarence was quiet for a half a minute, hoping his father would go into more details. He quickly realized that was all he was going to get on what had caused his father to change his mind. “Well, I'm happy you came. It was really special seeing you here for something as important as my baptism.”

Reverend Walker visibly sighed heavily. “Well, I just wanted to come and speak to you before I left. I need to get on back home now.”

“So, the rest of your family didn't come with you?”

“No. I came by myself. I didn't realize everybody was going to be here like this. Of course, I knew your mother and Knowledge would be here. But there was Gramps, your two children, Knowledge's entire family, including Isis. Isis hardly comes to church anymore. At least, she doesn't come to Divine Conquerors. Seems to me she's putting that job of hers above everything and everybody, including God, which can be dangerous. So, I admit I was surprised to see her here tonight. And you even managed to get your ex-girlfriend slash drama queen to the second power to come—ol' Miss Tameka Washington. When I saw her a little while ago standing here talking to you, I literally stopped in midstride.”

“Daddy, you're not being fair to Tameka. She's not a drama queen. Mama got Tameka and the girls here. You know how much Mama cares about us. She talked Tameka into bringing Valencia and La-la to dinner earlier today at her house, and then they all came here. Everyone seemed to enjoy the service tonight.”

Reverend Walker nodded his affirmation, then placed a hand on Clarence's shoulder. “Now, you know that giving your life to Christ in a particular church doesn't necessarily mean you have to become a
member
of that church. There's a difference in being saved, which is to come into the body of Christ, and congregational membership.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And you know there's nothing that would make me happier or prouder than to have you come back and hook up with me and your brother over at Divine Conquerors Church. Wouldn't that be something . . . the three of us working together again for the Lord?”

Clarence didn't want to ruin this time with his father. “That would be something, Daddy.”

“Well.” Reverend Walker smiled as he nodded. “You pray about what God would have you do. You know the right thing that you
ought
to do. But pray about it, and you'll see that God is telling you to come on home where you belong. Now, if you want to really talk about some rejoicing, there will be a great celebration when you come back home to
us
. Yes, I can promise you that. I promise that.” Reverend Walker hugged Clarence.

“We'll talk some more later. This is just the beginning of things with us, Clarence, just the beginning. I know God has a calling on your life. You know it, too. Just don't let the devil mess you up. People can do a
good
thing without it being the
right
thing. You always want to do the right thing when it's at all possible.” He slapped his son's back.

“Bye, Dad. And thanks again for coming.” Clarence watched his father walk out the door. He looked around the now practically empty place and saw Pastor Landris looking his way.

Pastor Landris smiled and waved. Clarence smiled and waved back.

Chapter 8

J
ohnnie Mae Landris visited her mother at the nursing home. Since her oldest sister, Rachel, put their mother in that place almost three months ago—in accordance with her mother's wishes before the Alzheimer's had progressed to the stage where she was presently—Johnnie Mae had made it her business to visit once a week, sometimes twice.

Johnnie Mae had heard far too many tales about the awful things that can take place in a nursing home. And even though this nursing home's staff appeared to be both caring and professional, she still wanted them to know that someone was attentive and that they were being monitored, at least to the best of her ability. No one on staff would want to deal with her if her mother was ever abused, neglected, or mistreated. She wasn't going to stand for that even a little bit.

“Hi, Mama. What are you doing?” Johnnie Mae said when she found her mother in the activity room on Tuesday afternoon. Johnnie Mae liked to come on Thursdays, but she often changed up her routine so the staff wouldn't get comfortable with when to anticipate her visits.

Countess Gates looked up. “Hi, baby.”

“So, you're playing checkers, I see.”

“Yes. This is my friend, Ranny. He claims he's a checkers man, but I've beat him two out of three times already.”

Having made his next move, Gramps looked up. “Hi. You must be Johnnie Mae.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, impressed more with the fact that her mother must have said something about her for him to know who she might be.

“You can just call me Gramps. Everybody else does.” He extended his right hand.

Johnnie Mae shook his hand. “All right, Gramps.”

“Everybody but me,” Countess said, concentrating on her next move. “He's not my gramps. I just call him Ranny.”

As Johnnie Mae sat in the vacant seat at the table, she thought about her own younger years. Back when people would tell her what they preferred being called, and she would persist in ignoring their wishes and insist on calling them by their real names. She was thankful she'd been delivered from doing things like that. It had been disrespectful and inconsiderate of her. If this man preferred she call him Gramps, then Gramps it would be.

“A triple jump, and now you need to crown me!” Countess said, satisfied.

Gramps smiled and sat back in his chair as he shook his head. “How did you just do that?” He studied the board that now gave Countess four kings with his two lonely checkers. “Well, this game is all over but the shouting.”

“I'm sorry,” Johnnie Mae said, directing her comment to Gramps. “Maybe I distracted you.”

Countess waved her daughter off. “Ah, you didn't distract him nothing. I've set this play up on him so many times he should have seen it coming a mile away. He never does, which is why . . .” She watched him, with nowhere to go, move one of his checkers. “I . . .” She jumped both his checkers. “Keep winning.” She removed his two checkers from the board.

Gramps grinned. “That's okay. I'll get you next time.”

“Next time, smext time,” Countess said. “He's been trying to get me to play chess with him. That's what folks do when they can't beat you in checkers.”

Gramps chuckled.

“You know how to play chess?” Johnnie Mae asked Gramps.

“A little. One of my grandsons has been trying to teach me.” Gramps stood. “Well, I'm going to go to my room now.”

“You don't have to leave on my account,” Johnnie Mae said.

“Oh, I'm not,” he lied.

“He seems to be a nice man,” Johnnie Mae said after he was gone.

“For an old man,” Countess said. “I think he lets me win, though.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. He likes to flirt with me. Letting me win is one of his ways of flirting.”

“Well, Mama. He's a nice-looking man.”

“Do you know how old that man is?”

“Seventy maybe,” Johnnie Mae said with a hunch. “Eighty at the most.”

“The man is close to a hundred,” Countess said with a slight chuckle.

Johnnie Mae laughed, more at how her mother said it than what she'd said. “Mama, I don't think he's close to one hundred. Do you see how he gets around?”

“It's because of what he eats and drinks. And he says he's never smoked, not even when he was younger. He's some kind of expert on the body. Like one of the nurses here liked to eat ice. He told her she needed more iron and that's why her body was craving ice. She laughed at him, but when she started taking iron supplements, she stopped eating ice. We were glad about that because she was getting on our last nerves. I mean, the woman was an ice addict. Every time you saw her, she had ice crunching on it. Ranny can even look at a person's fingernails and determine things going on in their body.”

“Okay, Mama.”

“No, seriously. Most of the folks he tells stuff to here are the younger folks. 'Cause you know the older folks here have their share of ailments. The receptionist that works here, Karen is her name.”

“Carolyn,” Johnnie Mae said, correcting her mother.

“Yeah, Carolyn. Anyway, she was handing somebody something one day and complaining about how tired she was. He asked her if he could look at her fingernails. He said her nails were flat and thin. He then asked if she had problems with her thumbnails splitting oddly. She said both her thumbnails tended to split across in the middle of her thumb and it could be painful because it wasn't where she could take it off until it grew out. You know what he told Karen?”

Johnnie Mae started to correct her mother again on Carolyn's name, then decided it really didn't matter. “What?”

“That she had a vitamin and mineral deficiency. He asked her if she was tired a lot, then told her she needed multivitamins with zinc and B something or other.”

“B6?”

“No.”

“B12?”

“Yeah, that's it. He told her he thought she had a B12 deficiency. Well, she didn't believe him. You could tell it by the way she was trying to humor him. But about a week later, she came and told him she'd gone to her doctor again and specifically asked them to check her B12 levels, and it turns out that was her problem. Ranny had told her she needed to eat more meat since that's a source of B12. He may be old, but he's a smart old man, that's for sure.”

“Interesting,” Johnnie Mae said.

“Yep. He has this beautiful wooden box in his room. I saw it last week. It's one of those Wings of Grace boxes.”

Johnnie Mae smiled. “Oh, so you remember the Wings of Grace box from some years back? He has a box that reminds you of that box?”

“No. He has one.”

“You mean he has one that's similar to it.... It reminds you of it.”

“No. I mean he
has
one. Now you're starting to act just like he did. Like I don't know what I'm talking about. I told him I'd seen that box before . . . that it had wings on the inside of the lid.”

“So you're telling me that he has a box, a wooden box, and when you open it up, there are wings etched on the inside of the lid?”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you. It's just like the one you had that time. You remember. Well, he has it now.”

“Mama, look at me. Do you know who I am?”

Countess looked at her. “You're so beautiful,” she said with a smile. “I know how much you love me. Of course I know who you are. You're my Johnnie Mae.” She smiled.

“Mama, can you take me to Gramps's room?”

“Who?”

“Ranny. Can you take me to see Ranny? I need to talk to him.”

“Why?”

“I want to see that box. I want to ask him about the box.”

Countess shrugged. “It's just a box, an old box at that. You had one. He has one. It must be a pretty common box. Who knows, maybe the one he has is the one you used to have. Looked the same to me.”

“Mama, you're right. It may be the same box I had. It could be that he bought it from someone. That's why I want to talk to him. So can you show me which room is his room?”

“Sure, baby. But I'm warning you right now: he seems to like younger women. That's why I believe he keeps flirting with me every chance he gets. You watch yourself around him. Don't let his sweet talking fool you, 'cause he's a smooth talker.”

Johnnie Mae smiled as she walked with her mother out of the activity room into the corridor.

“Where are we going now?” Countess asked. “You're such a beautiful, nice lady. Can you help me? I've been trying to go home, but these folks won't let me go. What was your name again?”

And just like that . . . Johnnie Mae's mother had slipped back.

Chapter 9

J
ohnnie Mae helped her mother to her room. She didn't press her any more about “Ranny,” as her mother called him. She visited with her mother for about an hour, her mother asking her a question, she answering it, then not five minutes later, her mother asking the exact same question again as though she'd never asked it or had it answered. When Johnnie Mae left her mother's room, she went to the nurses' station.

“Hi, Mrs. Landris,” one of the nurses said. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, Gina. I almost didn't recognize you with that red hair,” Johnnie Mae said.

“I dyed it. What do you think?” Gina primped and patted her hair.

“That color looks good on you,” Johnnie Mae said.

“My husband doesn't like it. He says he prefers it blond. But that was the same way he reacted when I dyed it from brown to blond. I wanted to change things up a bit. You know, it's hard for a black woman to find an interesting color that goes with her skin tone.”

“Well, if you like it, I think that's all that counts,” Bernadine said when she walked up, a chart in her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Landris. Did you have a good visit with Ms. Gates today?”

“Yeah, I did. She seemed to be doing fine, then she went back to another time. But listen, she was sitting with a gentleman when I came in, an older gentleman. They were in the activity room playing checkers.”

“Oh, that's got to be Gramps. Isn't he the nicest man?” Gina said. “He loves a good game of checkers. Now, you talk about somebody with a mind on him—”

Bernadine bumped Gina softly. “What Gina meant was . . .”

“It's okay,” Johnnie Mae said. “I'm not sensitive about my mother. I know what's going on with her. There's no need in us pretending. Yes, it's hard on us as a family, but we just have to do what we have to do. My mother gets confused about things, and we know that's part of this illness that's stealing so much from not just her, but us. She even thinks Gramps is a lot older than he is.” Johnnie Mae started laughing. “She thinks he's close to one hundred.”

“But he is,” Gina said.

“He is?” Johnnie Mae said.

“Yeah. In fact, his family is planning a big birthday bash for his centennial in November.”

“Wow, he looks great!” Johnnie Mae said. “And he gets around so well.”

“That he does. But he's so respectful of everyone,” Bernadine said. “I wouldn't be concerned too much about him with your mother. He's such a sweet guy. He makes it his business to help take care of the people around here, always trying to brighten someone's day.”

“Your mother gets a little confused and thinks he's an old man trying to hit on a twenty-year-old woman,” Gina said. “Gramps is so sensitive to when she and some of the others are not in the present that he just goes along with them and fixes things to make them feel better.”

“He appears to be a very nice man,” Johnnie Mae said. “Would it be okay if I went to visit with him for a few minutes? You know, stop by and let him know how much I appreciate the way he is with my mother.”

“I can call his room and see if it's okay,” Bernadine said. She checked. “He said he would love to have you come by.” She told Johnnie Mae his room number. “He's not too far from your mother's room.”

Johnnie Mae thanked them and left. After a short walk, she knocked on his door.

“Come in,” Gramps said.

Johnnie Mae opened the door and walked in with a smile.

“Well, hello again. Come on in. Have a seat.” He nodded toward the one other chair in the room. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“My mother.”

“Oh. So she told you I've been hitting on her, has she?” Gramps smiled to ease any tension. “Said I was trying to talk to her even though she's got a boyfriend. His name's Jericho. Countess believes that her folks conspired to put her in this place to keep her from marrying him. But she's determined she's going to marry him regardless of what her mother is trying to do.”

“Jericho is my father's name. He died in 1998. But that's not why I came by to see you.”

“As long as you know I've
never
nor would I
ever
do anything to hurt your mother. Miss Countess is a fine woman, yes, she is. She's something special. I like walking and talking with her out in the garden, near the gazebo. She loves the outside, loves flowers and plants. When I see her heading that way by herself, though, I make it my business not to let her go out there alone. They watch folks pretty well around here, but I don't want any surprises. Especially not when it comes to Miss Countess.”

Johnnie Mae nodded. “I appreciate that.” She swallowed hard. It was becoming abundantly apparent that Gramps truly cared for her mother. She hadn't thought about something like this happening. People their ages still looking for companionship, maybe even love, from someone other than family. “My mother mentioned you had a box.”

He smiled. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“Yes. She said it had wings on the inside of the lid.”

Gramps leaned forward. “Yeah. That was the strangest thing. I still don't know how she did what she did.”

“What's that?”

“How she knew about it. All I can figure is that she must have gone through my trunk and seen it somehow, although I can't for the life of me see how.”

“Excuse me,” Johnnie Mae said with a frown.

“Oh, it's okay. I'm not upset or anything if that's what she did. I know how things can be with folks, around this place especially,” Gramps said. “They wander around these halls. Get confused. End up in the wrong room. Think maybe it's their room. They wonder what's happened to all of their things since nothing in the room is familiar. Your mother may have seen that old trunk over there.” He made a sideways motion with his head toward the trunk. “She likely opened it to see if any of her things were in there. Saw the old wooden box. Only one other thing I can't figure out, and that's how she managed to open it without the key. You see, you need a special key to unlock it.”

Having followed his nod toward the trunk with her eyes, Johnnie Mae said, “Gramps, would you mind if
I
saw that box?”

He shrugged. “That's no problem.” He went to the trunk and took out the box, which was not buried down as far now as it had been before. “I had it out when I was looking for something to give to my grandson. He got baptized this past Sunday night—”

Johnnie Mae stood up almost in a daze and met him. “My goodness,” she said. “My mother was right. It
is
the Wings of Grace box. You really
do
have one.”

“Are you saying you've seen this box before, too?”

“Yes. It has wings on the inside of the lid . . . beautifully etched wings.” She touched the box gently as though she were approaching a scared puppy.

“Wait a minute, now. What are you and your mother up to? You couldn't have possibly seen this box before. This is handmade.” He shook his head. “Not possible. I know the person who made this here box. And I know that this box has never left his possession. I know this for a fact. So you couldn't have possibly ever seen
this
box before.”

“Gramps, if you don't mind me asking, where did you get this box? Did you buy it from the man who made it? How long ago was it when you got it?” Johnnie Mae suddenly put a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness.” She started shaking her head slowly. “Ranny . . . Ranny. My mother calls you Ranny. Oh . . . my . . . goodness. Ranny is short for Ransom. You're Ransom Perdue!”