The 'N' Word, Book 1 (27 page)

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Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: The 'N' Word, Book 1
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“Did you ever confront your mother about the beatings before this situation arose?”

“Of course not. Mama scared me. Dad scared me too, but he wasn’t home enough to have the same effect.”

“Aaron, you alluded earlier to the fact that your parents would argue quite a bit. Was it physical assaults as well?”

“All the time. They would beat the hell out of one another… So anyway, a couple of days later after Mama got all in Patti’s face, who’d told her she was a sorry bitch for knockin’ her kids around, social services came thumping at the door. Simple and short version? Mama got arrested and we got taken away. Strange thing was that Dad was home that day… and he ain’t say nothing, didn’t do a damn thing. He looked…” Aaron lowered his head. “…Relieved. His expression reminded me kind of like how when a guy opens his paycheck and knows he took extra long lunches that week, but then he sees his boss didn’t dock him for it and he is smiling a little, ’cause now his worries have melted away. The police didn’t cart him off; they just left him there, as if that was punishment enough. I never knew why he wasn’t held accountable. He did his share of hittin’ on us, too, but that’s where he sat, on that damn couch.”

“Your father was physically abusive to you and your siblings?”

“Yeah. Not as much as my mother, but when we did something and got whooped on for it, he didn’t spare any strength. And he’d tell us, warn us… but Mama…” He shrugged and grimaced. “We could be sleepin’ in our bed and she’d come wailin’ on us for some shit we didn’t do. She ain’t ask no questions, and we couldn’t catch our breath to give ’er no answers…”

“What happened with you and your father, Aaron?”

“Arnold? I never saw him again after that. Never looked for him, either.”

“Okay.” The man paused, brought a cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip. “What happened after you were taken away from your parents?”

“My father went to prison soon after all of this – that’s what I came to understand. He’d been in and out of prison anyway,” he said. “Wasn’t anything new but that’s why he wasn’t eligible to get us after they’d finished the abuse investigation. He wasn’t available to take care of us because he was locked up, and he was mentioned as being in on the action, basically.”

“So, in some regard, you’ve fallen into your father’s footsteps.”

Aaron gulped at hearing the words, and a swelling of anger erupted inside of him…

I outta reach across this damn thing, grab him by the back of his fuckin’ neck and slam his head against the fucking desk…

For all of his adult life, he saw himself and Arnold as completely different people, only linked by a bloodline… but now, well, things were different. He had Laura, but she didn’t have
him

Dr. Owens was right.

“Continue on, Aaron.”

“Uh, yeah… okay. Well, for the next few years, I got bounced around from home to home, and rarely saw my sister or Joe-Joe. Most people didn’t want all of us in their house at one time, like I told you before, plus, Amy had what they called behavioral issues. She was classified as bipolar, and my brother would smart off a lot and run away from home. He also got into a lot of trouble, spent most of his time couch jumping. I was considered the ‘good one’ of the bunch, go figure. I didn’t take a liking to that though. I wanted all
three
of us to be considered the ‘good ones.’ As kids, we were all we had.”

“Aaron, stop right there for a moment. You kind of rolled over some pretty important information… like your sister suffering from a mental illness. How did this affect her, you, and everyone, actually?”

“My parents fucked ’er up. I mean, they did this shit to her. She was neglected, hit, though not as badly as Joe-Joe and me. As a little girl, my sister was real sensitive, used to cry all the time. When she got a bit older, she started doin’ strange shit, like threatening people with knives, talking about occult stuff, witchcraft, shit like that. She was a slicer, too.”

“She’d cut herself?”

“Yeah. She had a good heart, but… she’s fucked up. She’s been in and out of mental hospitals since, like, age twenty.”

“And your brother? Joe-Joe?”

“Joe-Joe is fine, I guess.” He frowned. “He’s just kinda lazy and unrealistic… Nothin’ wrong with his head, though.”

“Aaron, do your siblings share the same beliefs as you? Regarding the nationalism?”

“Hmmm, I mean.” He grimaced as he rolled the notions around. “Not really. Joe-Joe doesn’t like Mexicans, but he don’t really say too much. My sister, she disagrees with me completely though. Matter of fact, she hates what I do, what I stand for. Funny.” He cracked a sad grin and looked away. “She and I were arguin’ one day and she told me that I just want somebody to blame ’cause Mama and Arnold treated us wrong. She’d never come on out and said anything like that, but Amy’s a wigger so I never really took her seriously.”

“A wigger?”

“Yeah, a white person that acts like a nigger… She used to hang with ’em, listen to that crazy music and use that slang. She’d drop from personality to personality… crazy ass.” He chuckled. “One minute, she was all Goth, right? Hail Satan!” he teased. “The next, she was full-on hippie, long skirts, listening to the Grateful Dead and Phish ’nd shit…world peace. The next she was listenin’ to rap music, curled her hair, and was gettin’ spray tans ’nd shit… but I still loved her… Hell, I even still liked her. It’s hard to not like Amy. She’s good people, you know?”

The two were quiet for a spell.

“So, let’s get back to when you were taken away from your parents, and how you felt about it.”

“Yeah, so as I was saying… Nobody wanted to take all three of us. We’d fight, the three of us, like cats and dogs, but we loved one another and stayed close, protected each other. It was lonely and foreign being all on my own without them, and I hated starting new schools over and over again, but it sure as hell beat being home with Mama.”

“When did you feel a sense of safety again, Aaron? When did a semblance of peace return?”

“Not too long after we got taken away, actually. Patti had gotten herself together, went straight. The first thing she did was come for me, Joe-Joe and Amy… Yeah, she saved us, Dr. Owens. She did what everyone else I’d come across had failed to do.”

“And what was that, Aaron?”

“Give uh damn…”

M
ELISSA’S FATHER SAT
in the paisley-wallpaper covered parlor with his slender, long legs stretched out and his house slippers dangling on the ends of his feet, exposing dark socks. Meanwhile, Mama poured another cup of hot tea for the man. The Sunday crowd had dispersed from the Armstrong household, minus Trudy and her children. The woman eyeballed her from the dining room, pretending to be picking up the plates and bowls, and clean up the crumbs and such left behind after bellies had been stuffed to capacity. Mia stared at the woman right back, wishing she could reach in there from afar and smack the damn taste out of her mouth.

She’d been ratted out… Trudy, her best friend in the whole damn world, had thrown her ass under the Sunday school Church of Saints and Mother of Grace rickety bus. Mama and Daddy acted just fine and normal during her visit and then, when everyone cleared, the reality came and bit her in the ass. Daddy pulled her aside and whispered in her ear,
“Girl, we need to talk…”

And there they sat, the three of them surrounded by the lingering scent of pig feet laden collard greens, thickly sliced, melt-in-your mouth baked ham, and dense yet moist wedges of heavenly home-made macaroni and cheese.

“Mia, what’s goin’ on with you and that man?” Daddy asked directly after taking a sip of his freshly poured tea, not wasting another moment with frivolous discussion.

“We communicate. We talk over letters.”

“I know that you might feel this is none of my business, bein’ that you’re grown and all, and that might be true, but I’m worried about you. You don’t call as much, and God bless you, but you’ve become distant.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve been real busy with work, too.”

Her parents nodded in understanding.

“What is this man in jail fuh, if you don’t mind me askin’?” he stated calmly.

“Assault and battery.”

Her mother gasped and placed her hands over her mouth as if she’d witnessed a horrific car accident. Her father gently placed his hand over her mother’s arm, and slowly rubbed up and down, giving comfort, as they sat there undoubtedly believing their child had gone over the deep end.

“Daddy, let me just tell you straight out. I can help him… I already am, actually. Since someone already opened their big mouth and told everybody, I may as well give the accurate version and not the dramatized one!” she screamed out as she threw a glance in Trudy’s direction. The woman had the audacity to pause and place her hand on her hip. “And in the effort of putting forth honesty, you should also know that he is a white nationalist.”

“Oh, Mia!” Her mother gasped once again. “Girl, have you lost your mind?! It’s one thing to write an inmate. I can understand that a bit, but it’s another to start a relationship – and with a racist, of all things!”

Trudy rushed in like flooding waters and pushed her finger into her face. Her posture and stance screamed she wanted to fight. Mia was prepared to take her up on her offer…

“You crazy ass woman! You ain’t tell me he was no damn Nazi!”

“Trudy…” Mia’s father called out.

“Naw, Uncle Lance! She had ample opportunity!” She tossed a glance in Daddy’s direction. “I say we have your butt admitted to a hospital, right now!”

“You can’t have her committed nowhere, Trudy! She’s grown and she ain’t break the law but yes, my daughter has lost her mind!” her mother wailed as she fell back onto the floral print couch in muted colors of orange and wine. Mama’s salt and pepper curls fell limply against her light chestnut colored skin as she shrouded her dark eyes with thin, tiny hands.

“Trudy, get your finger out my face before I break it off!” Mia hissed between clenched teeth. Her cousin stood there for a second or two, lowered her hand, then joined her mother on the couch, sitting extra close as if they were about to start a prayer revival in her honor.

“Mia, I have been blessed to have very bright children. All of you have your own special gifts. Willis can sing, Danielle is an excellent artist, Paul is one of the best lawyers in town, and the list goes on.
All
of my children are highly favored! You were a great writer and it came as no surprise to me that you’d fall into your mother’s footsteps and become a teacher, too. When you were a little girl,” he said, chuckling as he leaned forward, “you’d set all your dolls and toys out on your bed and pretend you were teachin’ class.”

Mia smiled and lowered her head as she looked down into her lap, recalling the memory all too well.

“You thought everyone was teachable, open to knowledge, like you… but Mia… some people… baby,
some
people… don’t want to learn. They want to do the Devil’s work. Now, I don’t know this young man – what’s his name by the way?”

She looked at Trudy, hesitated, then went on and answered him. “Aaron…”

“I don’t know Aaron and only God knows his fate, but I can’t have you runnin’ off tryna be everyone’s professor. You’ll get used and abused, your kindness mistaken for weakness. I’ve spoken to inmates, you know that. I volunteer, just like you, and go to the prisons, but let me tell you somethin’: more times than not, they don’t change. They know right from wrong, but once they get back on them streets, they’re back to their old ways! You can teach, Mia, you ain’t got all them awards for nothin’, but baby, a student has to be willing to receive the gift you tryna give ’em.”

“Daddy, that’s not always true. Sometimes things happen to us, bad or good, and force us to learn a lesson with or without our permission. I know how this sounds. Don’t you think I know? If I were my friend or loved one, I’d be saying the exact same things you are, but I can’t explain it, I know in my heart that Aaron is the exception, not the rule. We might not be open to a lesson when it first starts, but afterward, things may change. I just found out that he was a white supremacist, by the way, this isn’t something I knew going in. Honestly, had I known in advance, it more than likely would have ensured I didn’t write him at all… but now, I’m
glad
I did. Daddy, you told me I had good judgment… You told me that I was smart, and had a good head on my shoulders.”

The older man lowered his head, seemingly regretting those kind compliments now…

“I know it sounds crazy, I know it is a little scary even, but please trust me when I tell you that God laid it on my heart to keep talking to this man, to not close him out!” Her voice trembled. “When this man told me his beliefs, for a second I told myself that was it.” She threw up her hands. “But then, I felt peace come over me, Daddy. I was put in Aaron’s life for a reason. He may not get the lesson right now, but he
will
eventually. Why should I give up on him this early in the game?”

“So, here is what confuses me, Mia. Why is he even talkin’ to you? Does he
want
to change? I guess he does if you two are conversing,” Trudy stated as she tossed her disbelief and judgment in her direction, but seemed partially interested in the answer nevertheless.

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