Lundyn Bridges (23 page)

"Afreeka, what are you doing?" The question was rhetorical and I continued to lecture her. "You said you wouldn't get drunk any more. You said you would get help. You promised me and Romen."

"My life hurts," she wailed. "I can't take it. It hurts so much."

"Your pain is not greater than mine!"

Afreeka was distraught but I was angry.

“You don't understand,” she slurred through tears. “This is all too much, and I keep seeing Barbara. You didn't see her.”

“What are you talking about?" I snapped at her drunken banter. "We never saw her after we left the projects on Burrows Street.”

“I saw her!” Afreeka was adamant.

“Afreeka, you're drunk. Our mother is dead.”

“I saw her before she died.”

“Where Afreeka? We don't even know where she lived.”

“She was under the bridge at Point State Park.”

“What?!”

“She lived under the bridge overpass at the Point.”

“Why would you say that?” Afreeka's drunken stupor and her imagination were becoming annoying.

“I saw her when I was twenty. It had to be right before she died. I was at the Arts Festival with my friends, and she was sitting on a dirty blanket begging. I noticed her eyes.”

Afreeka's words stifled me.

“She saw me too, and she smiled.” Afreeka paused. “I was mortified. She looked terrible. Her teeth were missing, and she was filthy. Her hair was matted. She had open sores on her neck and arms.”

I hugged my sister.

“Her skin was gray, like she was dead. I ran away from her. I didn't want her to call my name.”

Afreeka blew her nose and took a deep breath. Then she looked me in the eye. “Our mother was a junkie who probably died on the street.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I never wanted you to know. I didn't want you to hurt. I didn't want you to have that picture – I can't make the picture go away.”

Afreeka and I sat silently not knowing what to say. Then she put her head back on the couch and fell asleep. While she slept, I called Romen and told him Afreeka had come home drunk. Then I called Jamel.

As I walked toward the Baggage Claim area on Tuesday afternoon, I noticed Jamel standing by the elevator. He tried to smile when he saw me. I knew something was wrong. We were supposed to be meeting at the Hilton. My heart was already broken. Coping with my brother's death and my sister's drunkenness depleted me emotionally. My body ached from sitting in a chair and crying all night. I was unprepared for any additional bad news. Jamel kissed me on the check and then held me in his arms. He spoke slowly.

"I checked the messages on your answering machine this morning. Kiarra's mother called. She's at Shadyside Hospital."

Kiarra's cheekbone was fractured and she was missing two teeth. She looked more like she hit the dashboard of a car than someone who had argued with the man who claimed to love her. My bitterness turned to rage against Xavier. I cautiously answered the questions of the police officers trying desperately to conceal my contempt. I didn't want them to think I was exaggerating because I didn't like him. Xavier was a monster. Although I had yet to understand how he had lulled Kiarra, there had to be something that kept her
hanging on to this fiend. Whatever she had been blinded by, surely her eyes would see clearly when she woke up and the swelling went down. Facing the reality of Xavier's abuse was critical, her life was at stake, and I was determined to take drastic measures to make sure she erased Xavier from her life.

Kiarra had been strong for me many times when my weakness and insecurity should have destroyed me. This was my turn to be strong for her. I held her hand as she lay connected to tubes and machines. I made a feeble attempt to speak for her to answer the questions of her parents. Her mouth was wired shut and all of her fingers were broken – she was unable to speak for herself or write a note.

When the officers left, her mother and I cried. My imagination could only guess at Mrs. Dillingham's anguish. Although I hurt for my best friend, my tears were from regret – I should have refused to keep her secret. Mr. Dillingham stood quietly staring out the window. Jamel stood against the wall staring at Kiarra. The nurse came in and cried with us. She told us her youngest daughter had been a victim of domestic violence.

For twelve days I prayed and cried at my best friend's bedside. Xavier turned himself in and I prayed he would have a female judge or a male judge with daughters. His punishment needed to be severe enough to keep him locked up for at least twenty years. Xavier's attorney was arguing against the charges of attempted murder. Mr. Dillingham was prepared to fight any suggestions for a plea bargain – especially after I told him of the previous incidents. Mrs. Dillingham contacted Xavier's mother only to learn she called the police on her son in December and then again
in May. On Christmas Eve, Xavier slapped his mother because she wouldn't co-sign for his car. Then he showed up one Thursday morning in May demanding she give him money for his last nine credits. When she refused, he pushed her into the wall after screaming he hated her. On his way out the door he called her a b#*&h. That afternoon she found the tires on her Santé Fe had been slashed.

Two weeks later, Kiarra was released from the hospital and went home to Riverdale, New York with her parents. It was the best thing for her in spite of how much I would miss her. She could only cry as I softly hugged her. My beautiful confident friend had been reduced to a shell of herself. It seemed absurd. Through tears and hugs we promised to keep in touch. Jamel and I packed Kiarra's apartment and put everything in storage. Mr. Dillingham was planning to drive back to Pittsburgh for the trial and said he would get her things at that time.

I spent the Fourth of July weekend in 2005 with Jamel and his family in Montclair, New Jersey. It was a much needed respite, and I welcomed the tranquility of his mother's home. Jamel had told her about Kiarra, and one evening when she and I were sitting on the patio she told me her story. Then she told me the hardest part was coming – the road back would be an uphill struggle for Kiarra, and her success would depend on the love of those around her. I thanked her for her candidness.

Mom and Dad Woodard met me at Kennedy Airport the following Tuesday afternoon. We boarded our flight to Athens, Greece and arrived on Wednesday morning. The travel was grueling but easy to forget after landing in such a beautiful city. The airport, which is in Sparta, is about forty minutes from Athens. Kristen and Larry detoured through downtown Athens and I marveled at the ethnicity of the city. We then took the ferry to Syros, the island Kristen and Larry called home. I spent most of my time on the beach – it was beautiful and awe-inspiring. Jamel needed to experience this, too. Words were inadequate to describe the ancient ruins, Panathenaikos Stadium, and the National Gardens of Athens. These were all things that should be experienced at least once in a life time.

As I was sitting on the beach, during the last day of my visit, I considered how God had blessed me. In spite of my beginning, I was sitting on the beach in Greece trying to find the words to thank God for His favor. I finished my postcards to Jamel, Romen, Afreeka, Rah'Lee and Kiarra, realizing I would get home before they arrived.

After two weeks, I returned to my life in Pittsburgh. Jamel and I talked until almost four in the morning about Greece, my life and my dreams. Then he told me about his job.

"I've accepted a position." He stroked my hair and kissed me on the cheek.

"Where?"

"Baltimore."

"Maryland?"

"Uh huh."

I knew he could tell I was smiling. "Doing what?"

"Director of the Baltimore City Health Department."

At seven that morning we were still on the couch, and Jamel called off. We slept until almost two that afternoon and then spent the day talking and watching movies. I admitted to him, and myself, that I knew my unemployment wouldn't last forever and I needed to find a job. Although I remained ambivalent about leaving Pittsburgh, Baltimore was an option for relocation. Not just because Jamel was going to be there, but it would also allow me to be with Afreeka and Rah'Lee.

Kiarra's advocate from Women's Center and Shelter had given me a lead about a position in their Baltimore office. I mailed my resume, hoping it wasn't too late. Later that evening I called Mom and Dad Woodard and told them about my plans. They were ecstatic I had made some decisions about what I was going to do next.

"You stagnated for a minute," Pop Woodard chided me. "I thought you were going to force me to make a trip to Pittsburgh to get you moving again."

Then, as he always did, he told me he was really proud of me and encouraged me to continue believing in myself.

There was a time when I thought that was impossible, but now I knew he was right.

At the beginning of August, after two interviews, I accepted the Social Services Coordinator position. I would be responsible for connecting the women with necessary services to relocate within the Women's
Center and Shelter Network across the county. Jamel and I celebrated at Palomino's Restaurant. He was leaving at the end of the week, and I would be joining him in Baltimore at the end of the month. Although my position didn't begin until September, I wanted to get acclimated – and my lease was up.

Afreeka extended the invitation to live with her, and even though she only had one bedroom I thought that would be good for both of us. It would give us the opportunity to reconnect, and I would have unlimited opportunities to tell her about the Jesus who made such a difference in my life. Our plan was to find a two bedroom townhouse by the time her lease was up in November.

I called Romen and made plans to spend the weekend with his family. I wanted to tell him about my plans in person. Then I called Kiarra and told her the news. She was doing well and was contemplating returning to school to be an elementary school teacher. I left the invitation open to join me in Baltimore.

My last call was to Rah'Lee. Although she was going to be living on campus, we would be able to visit regularly. We made plans to spend a weekend together before she left for Georgetown.

 

 

When I arrived on Saturday afternoon, Romen was preparing lunch. He said he needed something to do while he waited for me because he missed Ray Ray. This was the first morning he didn't have breakfast with his son since he was born. Nina and Ray Ray were visiting her college roommate who was now living in Columbus, Ohio.

Romen was unusually solemn when I told him I was relocating to Baltimore to be closer to Afreeka and Rah'Lee.

"You've got Nina and the baby," I smiled at him. "Afreeka needs me."

"I know she does, but I'll miss you."

My big brother and I stared at each from across the table. I saw a myriad of emotions in his eyes, which gave admission to his vulnerability.

"We never would have made it without you," I said taking hold of his hand. "You were strong for all of us when we didn't know how to be. We relied on you."

"You were always strong Lundyn. You just didn't realize your own strength."

"I learned from the best."

For the first time in seventeen years, since that social worker took the twins away from him, I saw Romen weep. I got up and hugged my brother. I
hugged him hard, trying, as I always did, to absorb some of his pain.

"I never should have let them go," he sobbed as I held him. "I should have held them tighter. I should have refused to let go."

I let him talk out the pain he had concealed for years.

"Can I pray with you?" I whispered in his ear.

He nodded.

I prayed a prayer of deliverance for my brother. I asked God to open his heart and heal his anguish. I wanted Romen to know God had protected him, too. I wanted Romen to let go of his pain and not blame himself for Hustin's death. I needed him to know he had done phenomenally well in making sure we all made it.

We talked about our family – the regrets and the promises we held onto while growing up. The hardest part for Romen was not having role models and having to figure out things for himself. He confessed to bearing scars from not having a dad, and it frightened him that he might miss something with his own son. He knew all too well the things to avoid, but all that he desired to give his son was based on everything he wished for as a child. This fueled his determination to be a good husband and father. He remembered too vividly the many men who went in and out of Barbara's life. There were a few pictures to prove Stanley stayed around until Afreeka was born and that was the only reason Romen believed he was also his father.