Read God Has Spoken Online

Authors: Theresa A. Campbell

God Has Spoken (16 page)

BOOK: God Has Spoken
11.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter Thirty-one
Dwight pulled up into his parents' long, marble driveway and parked. He sat in his car for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to relax the tense muscles in his body. He knew why his parents wanted to see him, and if this meeting went like the last one, it wasn't going to be a good one.
With a big sigh, he opened the car door, got out, and walked up to the front door. All around him was the familiar small paradise of acres of green, well manicured grass, small cherry, mango, and orange fruit trees, and beautiful, exotic flowers, but he saw none of these things. He just wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible.
A loud musical chime echoed throughout the house when Dwight pressed the doorbell. Almost simultaneously it was opened by a young girl wearing a stiff, black-and-white uniform dress. This one was new, as they usually were. Very few workers stayed long with his parents. Despite the fact that they were well paid, his mother's sharp tongue, constant criticism, and rude behavior ran them all away. His father's rumored behavior with the female hires was also said to be a factor.
“May I help you?” she asked Dwight in a very pleasant manner.
“That's my son, Bella,” said his father's deep voice from behind the helper. “I'll take it from here.” David Humphrey came to stand beside her, a cold, hard glare directed at his son.
“Excuse me.” Bella turned around to walk away.
David Humphrey reached out and slapped her on the behind, winking at Dwight as the young girl scurried away.
Dwight looked at him with disgust. “Mother would have loved to see you at work, Father,” he said as he stepped inside. He stood before his father, face-to-face, matching his father's cold stare with his own. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
David Humphrey looked at the younger replica of himself and felt the anger surging through his body. The boy was as stubborn as a mule. Again, something Dwight got from him but unwelcomed now that it was directed at him. “Your mother is waiting in the parlor,” he said and walked off, leaving Dwight to follow.
Dwight inhaled and exhaled a few times before he walked up the small flight of stairs into the parlor.
His mother sat crossed-legged, as pretty as her flowers, on a large, white leather sofa, sipping red wine from a crystal glass. Her long, straight hair fell heavily around her shoulders, shaping a beautiful, light-skinned, well made-up face. The chandelier overhead reflected off the huge diamonds adorning her ears and neck, complimenting the shear, long white dress that clung to her tall, slim frame. Full, bright, red lips parted in a cynical smile when her son entered the room. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Dwight. Your father and I are truly honored,” she said sarcastically, waving a hand toward her husband who sat a few inches away from her on a matching sofa.
Dwight looked at his beautiful, fifty-eight-year-old mother, who still rivaled women half her age with her physical beauty, and felt sympathy for her instead of anger. Eve Humphrey was a very cold woman, who lived to make other people's life as miserable as her own. Unfortunately, this included her only child.
“Mother, you are looking beautiful.” Dwight smiled sweetly. “It's a pleasure to see you as always.” He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. He wasn't going to sit down because he didn't plan on staying too long.
Eve Humphrey looked at him, seething in anger. The fact that he was late to see his parents and walked in as if he didn't care was despicable.
No one
kept her waiting, and that included her son. “That's all you have to say when we have been waiting on you for hours?” she asked Dwight harshly.
“I went out after church,” Dwight said lightly, an image of Eleanor popping up in his mind. “I had a wonderful time with great friends.”
“Don't waste your time, love,” David Humphrey chimed in. “This boy just don't understand the value of family. It's just like he refuses to come and work with me at the bank, so he can take over when I retire.”
“Here we go again.” Dwight sounded exhausted. “Father, I have told you many times that I am happy at BNS. I don't want to work with you at NCB.”
“You went and took a job with the competition!” David Humphrey shouted furiously. “You were to come back from college and work at NCB. Instead, you betray me!”
“Take it easy, dear,” Eve Humphrey said, scowling at Dwight as if it was his fault that his father got worked up. “Don't let him raise your blood pressure.”
Dwight frowned. His family came from a long line of wealthy bankers and financial gurus. His late great-grandfather and grandfather were former group managing directors at NCB, followed by his father who currently held the title. David Humphrey wanted the family tradition to continue with Dwight taking over when he retires in a few years. But, Dwight chose instead to work at another bank, refusing to follow in his father and forefathers' footsteps. This was an ultimate betrayal to his family as far as David Humphrey was concerned.
“I'm my own man, Father,” Dwight remarked firmly, not backing down. “I will be CEO of BNS one day, and on my own merit. I'm going to work hard and work my way up to the top.”
“I already did that for you,” his father yelled. “Now I want you to come to NCB and continue our family's legacy.”
“You want me to let you control my life and do as you say,” Dwight replied calmly. “That's not going to happen, Father. Sorry. I am going to live my life as the Lord see fits.”
“The Lord?” David Humphrey screamed. “This has
nothing
to do with some fictitious character. This is about you making things happen for you!” he pointed at Dwight, his eyes blazing. “Was it the Lord who sent you abroad to study at an Ivy League college? Huh? What the heck does the Lord have to do with this?”
“You forced me to go to Columbia, Father,” Dwight pointed out. “I wanted to stay here and attend UWI, but you refused to pay my college tuition unless I attended your alma mater.”
Dwight was adamant about staying in Jamaica for college. He wanted to attend UWI with Omar, but his parents told him if he did, he was on his own. There was no way he could have afforded college without their help. He also knew that he needed a good education to get away from his parents' stronghold over his life. After discussing the issue with Mama Pearl, she advised him to go.
“We are going to miss you, baby,” Mama Pearl had said. “But look at the good side of this. You need their help and getting a degree from such a reputable college abroad is a huge stepping-stone in your career. When you come back home with your degree, you can get any job you want and live your own life according to God's plan for you. Also, your aunt is there, and I know she will look after you until you come back to us.”
So Dwight went and never regretted it. He enjoyed college and spending time with his only aunt, a wonderful woman of God. But most importantly, she had led him to Christ, finishing the process that Mama Pearl had started.
“I'm talking to you, boy,” his father snapped, regaining Dwight's wandering mind.
“Father, I am staying at BNS. I love it there, and I'm doing well. Please accept my decision and stop fighting with me about this.”
David Humphrey sucked his teeth, stood up, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
“See what you have done?” his mother asked. “I don't know why it's so hard for you to realize how important this is to us.”
Dwight stared at her without responding. His head was beginning to hurt, and he was ready to go.
“Melinda is in town,” Eve Humphrey said, switching topics, her eyes lighting up. “She just came back from a modeling assignment overseas. She asked about you.”
“That's nice,” Dwight replied without emotion.
“It's time for you to settle down and give us some grandkids,” his mother said. “How about dinner Wednesday night? I'll invite Melinda.”
“No, thanks.” Dwight frowned. “I'll be going by Mama Pearl's for dinner on Wednesday. Sorry.”
His mother's face got ugly as she stood to her feet, her hands clinched at her sides. “I see you are still wrapped up with
those
people,” she said with disdain, emphasis on the word “those.”
“What people, Mother? The woman who has shown me more compassion than my own mother? The police officer, lawyer, principal, banker, or college professor? Do you mean
those
people?” Dwight asked irritably. “Those people are family! I love those people, and those people love me. Can you say the same?” Dwight's nostrils flared as he looked at his mother, fuming.
Eve Humphrey looked shocked as she stared at her angry son. She knew she had crossed the line again. Unlike high school days, Dwight was now a grown man with obviously a mind of his own. She didn't want to alienate her only son. “I only meant they are different from us,” she mumbled, making things worse instead of better.
“Yes, I guess they are,” he said sarcastically. “They are God-fearing people who love the Lord. Despite their poor background, they were able to beat the odds and become outstanding, successful, loving human beings. They are genuine people.”
“I meant they—”
“Mother, if you ever want me to set foot in this house another time, please don't disrespect the people I love again,” Dwight said resolutely. “I won't stand for it.”
“Whatever,” Eve Humphrey replied with attitude and walked out of the room without another word.
Dwight let out a long breath as he glanced about the beautiful room. Despite the expensive furniture, priceless paintings, and fabulous décor, he felt like he was trapped in a small, cold box. The room had no warmth or love. He shuddered and walked out, heading home to the place he now called home.
Chapter Thirty-two
“Is everything okay?” the elderly man asked the young lady sitting beside him on the bus, tears seeping down her face behind the thick, dark sunglasses that she wore.
Eleanor nodded her head, moved the sunglasses up on her forehead, and wiped her face with a handkerchief before the sunglasses were covering her red eyes again.
“Well, I hope whatever it is, that the Lord will make a way for you,” the man added and settled back into his seat, closing his eyes as if he was praying.
As the bus zoomed toward Falmouth, Trelawny, Eleanor wrapped her hands tightly across her stomach, shaking as if she was naked in a snowstorm. Her lips were folded tight to keep the bitter bile that filled her mouth from spraying out. She was feeling sick to her stomach.
Upon completing her finals, marking the end of her undergraduate studies, Mama Pearl and the family took Eleanor out for a dinner celebration. They went to an upscale restaurant in New Kingston, with a nice ambiance, finger-licking food, and good-vibes music.
As the laughter and jokes flew around the room, Eleanor laughed and conversed, but was crying inside. Each face she looked at seemed to change into Aunt Madge and Dupree. Here she was celebrating a milestone in her life, when she had run away from the woman who raised her and the child she brought into this world. She was living a lie, and until she set things right, she would never be free from this internal hell.
“I'm going to look for my aunt and daughter tomorrow,” Eleanor decided on a whim. Images of Officer Gregg's gun pressed against her head flashed in her mind, and she trembled slightly. “I don't care if Officer Gregg shoots me or his wife kills me. I am going to Falmouth no matter what. He is not going to hurt Aunt Madge. He was just trying to scare me.” Eleanor was trying to boost up her courage to enter into the lion's den.
For the rest of the night Eleanor gave her best acting performance. She sincerely appreciated all the love and support she was getting from these people who came to love her as she loved them, but her mind had already packed and was ready for an overdue trip.
The next morning Eleanor left home as if for work, but she had already requested the day off from her boss. Walking out to the main road, she pulled on one of Mama Pearl's big straw hats that she had hidden in her handbag and a pair of sunglasses for her disguise. Even though it had been over seven years, Eleanor didn't want to take any chances. She still had a very youthful appearance, despite the hard life she had lived, and was recognizable.
Eleanor caught a bus to Spanish Town, chanting over and over in her head that she had to do this. In Spanish Town, she transferred to the last bus that would take her into what would be a nice homecoming—or her worst nightmare.
Now here she was, sitting on the bus, trying not to puke or faint, slowly heading toward what she had run away from.
It was a long ride, almost three hours. The bus finally pulled into the bus terminal in Falmouth Square, coughing and backfiring, then coming to a sharp stop. All the passengers hurried off it, among them a nervous Eleanor.
Adjusting the big hat on her head, her hair was neatly wrapped and concealed under it. Eleanor straightened the sunglasses on her nose. She looked around at her old stomping ground with familiarity.
It was Saturday, so the streets were busy with buses and cars and vendors pushing handcarts overloaded with produce for the already full market. There were people hurrying from one place to another, some engaged in animated chatting, with children running behind their parents, laughing and screaming. It seemed as if not much had changed in Falmouth since she last lived there.
Eleanor walked out of the bus terminal, her head hanging low, toward the market. Aunt Madge would be here selling at her little stall, the fruits and produce she grew with her own hands: yams, oranges, mangoes, grapefruits, bananas, sweet potatoes, breadfruits, sweet corn, and ackees.
“I used to be here with her,” Eleanor murmured as she shoved her way through the small, crowded market. “Before I played with fire and got burned.” Behind her sunglasses, her eyes burned from the tears she was trying not to let fall. That would have brought too much attention to her, and that was the last thing she needed right then.
Suddenly it felt like a donkey had kicked her in the stomach. Eleanor bent over and grabbed her tummy, the tears now dancing down her face. A few people shot her quick, curious glances, but the majority scurried around her as if she was invisible to tend to their business at hand. Like a cripple she scrambled over to a light post and braced her back against it, struggling to breathe, her knees shaking like grass in the wind.
Only a few feet away from Eleanor stood Aunt Madge.
Minutes went by before Eleanor sneaked a look at her aunt from behind the light post. Her eyes soaked in the sight of the wonderful woman who loved and cared for her since she was a baby. Aunt Madge looked like she hadn't aged a day since Eleanor left. Her face was just as beautiful and warm as she remembered. Always well put together, the long, bright, floral dress she wore matched her head tie and the flat shoes she wore on her feet.
Eleanor watched as customer after customer came by, Aunt Madge greeting each one like a long lost friend. But the one thing Eleanor noticed that caused the surge of relief in her heart was the big smile on her aunt's face. Only one person could have been able to put the light back in Aunt Madge's eyes after she had put it out. Her daughter, Dupree.
By the way, where is Dupree?
Eleanor spun around and around, peering at the faces of the children, trying to see if she could recognize her almost eight-year-old daughter. The last time she saw Dupree, she saw the image of a scary creature, barely a week old. Who did Dupree resemble? Her mother or her father? These were some of the questions running through Eleanor's mind as she searched the crowd for a child who might look like her daughter.
It's a shame I don't even know what my own child looks like,
Eleanor thought.
After a few minutes, Eleanor gave up looking. She did not want to walk around and risk someone recognizing her, so she focused on Aunt Madge instead. If Dupree was at the market, she would be coming back to the stall soon to help Aunt Madge.
Eleanor remembered when she did the same. It was such an exhilarating experience trying to get potential customers to come to her aunt's stall. Shouting out the produce they had for sale and the prices. Smiling and welcoming the customers. It was so innocent. So pure. Until she wanted more. Too fast, too soon.
Watching Aunt Madge, Eleanor wanted so badly to go up to her aunt and hug her. But she knew this was neither the time nor the place to lay this on the elderly woman. She would wait until Aunt Madge got home and surprise her.
Eleanor finally decided to wait at the house for Dupree and Aunt Madge. Hopefully, Aunt Madge still kept the spare key hidden under the big stone by the hibiscus trees. Nervous but anxious to reunite with her aunt and daughter, Eleanor left the market and headed toward her old home.
“Wow, nothing has changed,” Eleanor said as she was walking up the lonely, country road that would take her to the narrow, dirt track to her old home. The big hat and sunglasses still in place, she looked at the familiar, small houses along the street. Mr. Bone's little zinc-fenced shoe-making shop was still standing. The Methodist church on the hill was still missing a few front windows. Miss Dorrett's tiny grocery shop still needed a fresh coat of paint. It was as if nothing had changed over the last few years.
Lost in memory lane, Eleanor walked with her head straight, greeting no one she passed. She got a few curious looks but ignored them. She just wanted to hurry and get off the main road to avoid contact with someone who might recognize her.
As Eleanor took a deep turn around a corner, where big, tall bamboo trees blocked out the sunlight, casting dancing shadows on the road, a car came out of nowhere and screeched to a stop at her feet.
Eleanor jumped back in fright. Her hand covering her mouth muffled the scream. Her eyes widened in alarm as she watched the car door open and a tall man in a stiff police uniform stepped out and walked up to her.
Please, God, anyone but this devil
.
BOOK: God Has Spoken
11.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Tsunami Across My Heart by Marissa Elizabeth Stone
The Clintons' War on Women by Roger Stone, Robert Morrow
His Lady Mistress by Elizabeth Rolls
Homeless Heart by JC Szot
Edge of Nowhere by Michael Ridpath
Anubis Nights by Jonas, Gary
Threats by Amelia Gray
Falling for Fate by Caisey Quinn