Under the Peach Tree (15 page)

Once he found a parking space at the park, I quickly got out and headed straight for the nature trail. I didn't realize how fast I had taken off until Dante called out to me. I slowed, allowing him to catch up. He was barely managing to carry all of the picnic goods and so I took the blanket that looked as if it was about to fall. Dante caught my eyes; his expression was a mix between inquiry and amusement.

“My bad,” I said, exhaling deeply. I closed my eyes, trying to change my thoughts, which somehow managed to go haywire on the way to the park. After I cleared away the thoughts about the “picnic date,” I started thinking about Momma and John.

The last time I saw John, he mentioned how he and Momma was no longer together. I wondered if what happened between him and me eventually caused their relationship to fall apart. There was a time in my life where I would've laughed at the thought, but I realized a new emotion, one more prominent. A feeling I had felt for a while but was just now accepting. Regret.

I'd felt it when I talked on the phone with Faith, I'd felt it when I told Momma May everything I'd done, and I'd felt it when I walked away from John in the store.

“Are you good?” Dante asked, putting his free hand on the back of my shoulder.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

The park was beautiful and full of nature trails and playgrounds. There was an area for events that had a stage for performances and concerts, and an area for family reunions and cookouts. Dante explained that on the east side of the park there was a large lake for canoeing and fishing, but he preferred a more desolate location. We headed off in that direction.

After a few minutes of walking, Dante and I slowed and sat down at the edge of a small lake. A few ducks swam about, adding to the serene picture before me. The sun was high in the sky, casting warm rays of love, causing me to almost feel okay.

Dante and I laid down the blanket and sorted the food, plastic plates, and cups. He had turkey meat, bread, cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes for sandwiches, and pickles, soda, and chips for a snack.

I took a seat facing the lake and felt Dante take a seat next to me. His shoulder brushed mine. He grabbed my hand and put it in his, gently caressing the length from my knuckles to my wrist. It was as if he knew I needed some sort of affection. Dante must've been able to tell because of how my shoulders had been tensed and how quiet I had been. His gesture caused my tears to pour. I was sure the ducks would've been pleased to swim in my sorrow.

“It's okay, Hope.”

“You don't know that,” I spat.

“Ten minutes ago, you were fine. What happened between then and now?” he asked.

“My thoughts happened,” I explained. “My past always haunts me, no matter how good my day is going.”

“Sounds like you need to deal with your past,” Dante pointed out.

“Naw, really?” I stated sarcastically. “I know what I need to do. I just don't know how to do it.”

“Pray and have faith in God. He promises us that—” Dante began, placing his hand on top of mine.

“He promises a lot of stuff I ain't seen.” I sighed, cutting him off. “He promised He wouldn't put more on me than I can handle. Faith told me that. And guess what, I can't handle it! It's too much.”

“If it was, you would be dead,” he simply said.

I looked down at our hands touching and turned to Dante. “Do you care about me?”

His light cheeks reddened but he didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then why did the kiss make you spazz out?”

He shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. “I never kissed a girl, for one.” I laughed but he kept talking. “And I don't want to lust. It's a sin.”

“One that can be forgiven.”

“It's not right to play with God, to sin and think God will still forgive us. We need to try our hardest to not sin, truly repent . . . and I did. Plus, we disrespected Pastor May's house.”

“Okay, I get it, you're by the book. You're a one-ofa-kind black male.” I picked up a pickle and bit into it, thankful my tears were now gone. “So, do you ever think about losing your virginity, or is the thought a sin too?”

He smiled. “Yes, lusting in your mind is a sin because it leads to fornication. And I'll lose my virginity one day . . . when I'm married.”

“What?” I was appalled. “What if you don't ever get married?”

He shrugged. “Then I'll be a virgin for life.”

“What if I took your virginity?” I watched his face redden as he registered what I said. I scooted closer, removing my hand from his to caress his shoulder. “I could seduce you. I'm good at that. And then God can only be mad at me.”

He scooted away. “No, it doesn't work like that.”

I scooted closer to him and began placing kisses on his neck. I didn't know what came over me. Maybe it was as simple as being a hormonal teenager. I was trying to seduce a second victim, and for what? My own personal enjoyment in making him a man? Pride? Loneliness? Maybe it was all of the above.

But Dante was stronger than John, maybe because of Jesus. He gently pushed me away and stood up. The rejection angered me, reminded me of Momma's rejection. I stood up, barely containing my anger.

“Dang, Dante, you gay?”

“No.” He almost laughed but it was obvious he was battling something inside. He looked conflicted the way his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, you is. Can't no man resist me.”

“A man strongly rooted in his religion can.” He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. “Don't even try to get mad, Hope.”

“I can if I want to.” I folded my arms stubbornly.

“You're childish and selfish.”

“So?”

“It's not attractive,” he stated.

“Lames ain't attractive either,” I said accusingly but Dante just shrugged.

“If you're not attracted to me and yet try to seduce me, that makes you desperate for love,” Dante said.

His last words hit deep. I didn't have a comeback. It was true. It was the reason I had seduced John in the first place. It was the reason I stole Faith's dress. It was the reason I wanted to be close to Momma May and now the reason I tried to seduce Dante. I was desperate for love. I'd do anything for it.

“Hope,” Dante began.

“Don't talk to me,” I said as he tried to console me. He knew his words hit something deep inside, causing me pain. I would've moved away from him, but I was stuck in a stupor.

“If you really want love, and you're desperate for it, try finding it in God. Redirect your passion unto Him. He will satisfy it. I thought you had a breakthrough that day you talked to Momma May and accepted Jesus.”

“I did accept God, but that don't mean all my problems went away.”

“Hope, when you accepted Him, it means you have to begin to rely on Him. That's why you need to read your Bible. It tells you how to handle situations. You need to pray so that God can help you.”

“Why does everybody throw God in my face?”

“To help you, but you keep rejecting it. How do you expect to get better if you aren't taking your medicine?”

I snorted. “My medicine?”

“The Word. It satisfies you more than bread. It helps you stay focused on God. It—”

“Ugh!” I groaned. “Stop preaching to me! I just . . . I just wanna go home. Take me home, Dante.”

I started walking back in the direction we came from, making sure to keep a big gap between us. I didn't want to hear his Jesus banter. I wanted to be alone.

Twenty minutes later, Dante pulled up to the curb and I jumped out before the car completely stopped. I almost lost my balance but didn't care. I stormed up to the house, noticing Momma May was inside. She'd probably fallen asleep on the couch. Dante followed slowly, keeping a good distance between us. I didn't care. I just wanted to bury myself deep in my covers and sleep the rest of the day away.

I opened the screen door and stepped through. Everything was normal. The TV was turned to the usual soap operas and Momma May was asleep on the couch. I smiled at the sight and went up to my room. I plopped down on my bed and closed my eyes.

And embarrassment hit me.

I threw myself at Dante. Dante, who was a nerd. Dante, who was a virgin. Dante, who was a Jesus freak. He rejected me. It did numbers to my ego. But did I even like him? I laughed at the thought. No, he just happened to be there. I was not attracted to him. Or was I? I did care what he thought of me. How he smiled when he saw me. I noticed the little things about him. He was caring, sweet, innocent, and ungrudging. He should have been everything that I wanted. And I threw myself at him, recklessly, ruining any chance I may have had. But did I even want a chance?

I shook the thought out of my head.

“Hope!” Dante's loud scream broke my reverie. I sat up, wondering if I had imagined it. “Hope! Help!”

I jumped out of the bed and darted downstairs. I was greeted by the sight of Dante, checking Momma May's pulse. He looked up at me standing frozen and unsure.

“Is she . . .”

“She's breathing, but barely,” he said, although his voice was deceiving. “Call the ambulance, Hope!”

I couldn't move. My eyes were glued to Momma May's seemingly lifeless figure. My heart ran rapid inside of my chest and my eyes watered, daring to explode with a river of tears. Dante looked up at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “Call them! Now!”

His angry voice brought life back into my limbs and I ran for the phone, calling the ambulance, praying that Momma May would live to see another day.

I would explain the rush of paramedics who burst through the house and how they carried Momma May away. I would explain how Dante and I even got to the hospital, waiting room, all of the in-between emotions, but everything passed by in a blur. I was a walking zombie and my consciousness was far from me. I barely felt Dante's assuring hands placed around my own. I only felt the cold of death as it tapped its vicious claws on my heart, reminding me that it was there and that I could do nothing to stop it.

Dante must've heard the cry escape from my mouth because he pulled me closer to him, forcing all of the darkness back into the corners of my heart.

“You okay?” he asked, caressing my shoulders. I shook my head in response. “Want anything to drink?” I shook my head again as I saw Norma burst into the waiting room. She took one nonchalant look at us before walking over to the nurse's desk to demand answers.

The doctor came out into the lobby and headed to Norma, who was still chastising the nurse for her ignorance. Dante guided me to where they stood, talking, and we both listened.

“What is the prognosis?” Norma asked the doctor. Worry lines formed on her forehead.

“We're still running tests, but it looks to be cancer related,” the doctor somberly stated. “We noticed a lump on her leg. It could be a tumor. A lump that big could block off blood from getting to the brain, which could've resulted in her fainting. But these are only theories. We need to keep her for a few days.”

“Can you operate on her leg?”

“Mrs. May is an older woman, and with a lump that size an operation would be detrimental to her health. If, say, the lump we found is cancerous, surgery could also increase the risk of the cancer spreading. I've seen cases like these where the leg needed to be amputated, however, that was for a much younger patient.”

“Okay, so what if it is cancerous and you won't do surgery? What would be the next step?” Norma asked.

“I'd prefer to wait to discuss that further once we know for sure what the diagnosis is.”

“Okay, how soon will you know?”

“Perhaps a couple more days,” he said. “And I'm sorry, but visitation is prohibited at this point. You will need to wait to see her tomorrow.”

“Why?” I asked.

The doctor looked at me for the first time. “She is in critical condition. Her heart gave out on her twice due to the blood being cut off from traveling to her heart. We need you to wait patiently until we decide what steps to take.”

“When were you going to tell us that?” I asked, fuming.

“Will you call us when you have any update?” Norma asked, ignoring my question. The doctor seemed content to ignore it too.

“As soon as we have information, you will be updated.”

Turned out, Momma May, in fact, did have a tumor the size of a baseball on her leg. The dresses she wore hid it well. I was shocked to learn that she kept it from us. I didn't understand why a woman of God would be deceiving. Dante said it was probably because she wanted to spare us the pain of knowing how much pain she was in. Momma May was never the type to complain, which made it hard to know when she was suffering.

I hated knowing that she suffered.

I spent the next few days making sure everything was perfect for her when she came home. I was praying it would be in a few more days. But it wasn't.

The doctor said they needed to keep her in the hospital longer. They had multiple specialists looking into ways to remove the tumor from her leg, and so far they were unsuccessful.

I really began to take my prayers seriously. I began spending more time reading the Bible firsthand, praying to understand how God works. Praying that He'd heal Momma May the way Jesus healed the blind. There was a story in the Bible where Jesus healed a man by saying, “You are forgiven.” I took that as meaning it was the man's sin that made him sick and the forgiveness of that sin was what healed him. Maybe Momma May needed to be forgiven for something.

I could've been wrong. I never really understood how God worked.

Two dreadful weeks passed by slowly, a sad song on repeat. Every night I dreamt of sitting in an old, dark room as an old phonograph played in the corner. I wished to move, to turn the formidable music off, and to open the curtains so that sunlight would shine through. But the phonograph never cut off; it only collected more dust as I stayed trapped.

They say dreams are your subconscious thoughts. If that was true, I must've felt trapped in real life. In a sense, I was. There was nothing I could do to help out Momma May. I was helpless and afraid. I felt like every day was a dark day where no sunshine dared to intrude.

Just when I thought life couldn't get any worse, it did. And just when I found a woman who cared about me, one who helped me find Jesus, the one who took me in and became my momma, the one who constantly helped me try to get passed my own past, this happened. I was back at square one. But was I? If Momma May passed away, at least I could say I grew as a person. I could say I once knew the most beautiful woman God ever made.

But I couldn't stop wondering what would happen to me if she did pass away. Where would I go? How would I manage? Would I go back to my old ways of being fast and angry at the world? I hadn't really noticed the subtle changes I'd made in myself. Like the fact that I no longer felt the urge to act on impulse, doing crazy things like the time I stole Faith's dress. I didn't have a need to be the center of attention and that was because I felt loved. Yes, I made a pass at Dante, but only because my defenses were weakened. I was hurting and I needed some kind of affection. Dante happened to be the one who was there.

I wondered how Dante would manage if Momma May passed away. He'd known her much longer than I had. He was attached to her. I knew he'd take it harder than me. I could only imagine the thoughts that ran through his head when he learned about the tumor in Momma May's leg. He seemed quieter, on the edge, a fragile glass on the verge of cracking. But he held it together; he stayed strong for the both of us.

He came to the house every day at the same time and we played checkers, the way he and Momma May did. And then we'd go inside and watch TV, usually Momma May's favorite soaps. I'd cook and we'd busy ourselves with things to keep us sane. The routine helped; we needed the normalcy with all the chaos around.

 

 

Momma May finally was stable enough for us to visit. Dante drove us up there one day. I allowed him to visit her first while I sat in the waiting room, watching a couple get news of a death in the family from the doctor.

It was almost as if it was in slow motion. The doctor came from behind a door with a morose expression on his face. The couple jumped up, holding each other's hands with begging, desperate eyes. I couldn't make out what the doctor was telling them but I knew it was bad. The woman fell back into the man; his arms closed around her as he lowered his head. The woman's eyes stayed planted on the doctor as she cried.

“My baby!” she screamed. “My baby!”

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up and left the waiting room. I didn't pay attention to where I walked. I just noticed families leaving hospital rooms as the nurses passed as they rushed along. I hoped they never had to go through what the couple earlier went through. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even John or Momma.

What if that would soon be Dante and me crying over the unfortunate news that Momma May passed away? I shook the thought out of my head.

I found my way back to the waiting room just as Dante was taking a seat. He stood up when he saw me. “She's awake. See her. It's room 306.”

I nodded in relief. I hadn't realized how shaken up I was from seeing that couple lose someone close, a baby. I knew the feeling; I'd lost my own. I'd lost everything and yet was given more. It reminded me of the story of Job, who in the Bible lost everything: his house, his riches, and his family. But God gave everything back to Job tenfold. God is always faithful.

I was beginning to understand how He worked in my own life.

When I entered room 306 Momma May was barely conscious, but her eyes lit up once she heard me. My heart warmed, forgetting all of the negative things that weighed it down. I ran to her side and kissed her cheek. I ran a hand through her beautiful silver-white hair the way I always did. I loved brushing the curls and watching them spring up as if I'd never straightened them. A tear escaped my eye and I watched as Momma May struggled to lift her hand.

“Why are you crying, child?”

I loved her sweet Southern accent, much stronger than my own. “I missed you.”

“Wipe those tears and rejoice. It's what Jesus would say. Rejoice for having another day with me. Rejoice.”

I smiled. “That's why I'm crying. It's happy tears.”

She nodded. “You been keeping my house up?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Dante said so. God has been good to me bringing that boy into my life.” She coughed. “He's making sure everyone is doing their job at the church, called in pastors to preach in my spot. I've had so many phone calls from my members praying over me. I'm sure they'd be up here if I could have visitors besides family. Heck, they are my family.” Momma May laughed. Her voice was croaky. “And I am truly blessed to have you, Hope. I appreciate you keeping my house in order.”

“No, I appreciate you. I owe you that much, Momma May.”

She smiled. “You're turning into a fine young woman, Hope. Everything about you is growing, do you see it?”

I hadn't really thought about it.

Momma May continued. “You're growing spiritually and emotionally. God has been blessing you abundantly. For a girl to come out of the life you did and grow into a fine young woman is a blessing. Hope, I want to see you continue to grow. Get back in to high school, go to college, make something out of your life.”

“School.” I hadn't been in so long.

“What do you want to be in life, Hope?”

I hadn't really thought about it. I spent most of my time thinking about the past, never the future. I didn't have any real talents besides singing. I had no skills, I was an average student, and I had no passion for anything.

“I don't know.”

“Well, you need to start thinking about it.”

“Is it because you think you're gonna die?”

Momma May's hands found mine as I studied her face. She had lost a lot of color. Her face had sunken in, and her body looked fragile under the white covers.

“I'm not thinking about myself, only you and your well-being, Hope. I took you in and promised myself and God that I'd help you grow. I will fulfill that promise. I will serve the Lord, even on my deathbed.”

“Don't say that!” I said, tears rushing down my face. “You ain't on your deathbed!”

Momma May didn't say anything for a long time but when she spoke, her voice commanded the whole room. If my eyes were closed, I would have thought it was a much younger, powerful woman.

“We must always obey the Lord, even when He calls us home. I am not saying it is my time, but when it is, I will go serving the Lord,” she said.

I didn't want to talk about her dying so I changed the subject to something I could handle. “What they gonna do about your leg?”

“There ain't nothing they can do.”

“So they just gonna let the cancer spread?” I felt my heart drop.

“It's already spread everywhere.”

I stood at the side of her bed, helpless and angry. I didn't have the power to cure Momma May. There was absolutely nothing I could do to help her. I prayed every night and grew closer to the Lord, hoping He'd cure Momma May. She was mine. He gave us to each other. Why would He tear us apart so soon?

I couldn't contain my anger any longer and ran out of the room, brushing passed nurses until I emerged into the waiting room where Dante sat. He looked up at me but I said nothing. I ran straight past him to the elevators, franticly pressing the arrow button. I looked up at the number at the top of the elevator and noticed it was on floor thirteen, ten floors above.

I felt Dante's presence as he approached, but I ignored the urge to turn to him. I wanted to be left alone. I also didn't want to take my anger out on him. Who knew that when I watched that woman mourn for the loss of her child I'd be feeling a similar pain today? Strange how we all connect through pain and joy. It's two of the things all humans share.

“Hope.”

I ignored him. The elevator had reached the sixth floor. I tapped my foot impatiently, needing to break out of the hospital, needing air. I felt claustrophobic and tried every technique possible to keep myself from freaking out. The elevator door finally opened and I rushed inside. Dante followed.

I pressed the button and kept my eyes ahead, trying hard not the blink in fear of the tears that were almost tipping over my eyelids. As soon as the door opened, I tried to rush out but Dante grabbed my hand, pulling me back in. He quickly hit a button on the panel that caused the elevator door to close and shut down. He then turned me around to face him and pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine. At first I was shocked and tried to push him away but that didn't last long. Soon, I joined in the kiss, wrapping my arms around him, lifting up on my tippy toes to be even with him.

When the kiss ended, I couldn't speak. Tears streamed freely but Dante kissed them away.

“Shh,” he said, his voice instantly calming me. I didn't know what came over us. What changed. It was him, the way he looked at me, with passion, with clarity. “Don't cry.”

“Dante, you just sinned.”

He smiled, his forehead touching mine. “You'll be my wife one day. It was worth it.”

I backed away, flabbergasted. “What?”

“Pastor May prophesied it to me today. She told me that God came to her in a dream and showed her our future. She said we'd get married and that I needed to protect you.” His eyes grew dark as he looked down. “She told me that she won't be here much longer and that the devil is working hard to destroy you. I have to be your strength and I want to.”