The Veil (10 page)

“Mom . . . Mom . . .” Misha hesitated. She couldn't bring herself to tell another person.

“What's wrong with you? You need to do something about your attitude.”

“Mom, look, I got cancer. Now leave me alone.” Misha pressed the end button on her phone. There was something about her mother that always made her angry. The phone rang again. It was her mother. She debated picking up the call. After about eight rings she pressed the green answer button.

“So what you trying to do, scare me or something? You know I don't believe that lie.”

“Mom, it's true. Dr. Trinidad told me today. I have cancer. I'm having surgery at Emory on Monday.”

“Ooooooooooh, Lord. My baby gon' die. I knew it. I knew it. That day you laid hands on that lady in the church that cancer got on you. I knew it. Something told me you was dying.”

“I hate to burst your bubble. I'm not dying. It's outpatient surgery. I'm going home the same day of the surgery.” Misha sighed and rolled her eyes, offering up a silent prayer.

“Don't matter. When you let them start cutting on you, that's it.”

“Thank you, Mother, for all your encouragement and support. I've got to call my pastor now. I'll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone again. She called her pastor and asked for prayer and told him about the surgery. By the time she hung up the phone, she had lost her appetite. She went to her bedroom and fell on her knees and began to pray.

 

 

The next morning, she got dressed for work as if nothing were going on. She joined the other teachers in the auditorium to await the start of the meeting.

Principal Davis got up and began his same old boring “welcome to the new school year” speech. “I know we are going to have a successful school year. We have a good team and I want you to keep up the good work.”

He finally reached the end of his speech and Misha looked into her folder and spotted the work excuse she got from the doctor. Reading the note, she wasn't really paying attention to what Mr. Davis was saying until she heard Roger's name. She looked up to see Roger standing in the front of the auditorium.

“Mr. Williams is the counselor from the City Development League. His main focus will be to work with troubled kids and students from low-income families to prepare them for college. Y'all welcome Mr. Williams to our school.”

Misha gasped. She couldn't believe it. Roger was working at her school.
Is there something wrong with the universe?
How could God let this happen to her? How could she deal with cancer and Roger at the same time? Uncertainty gripped her. How could she handle all that was being placed on her? Misha continued to stare at Roger until their eyes met. She turned away. If anyone could see there was something wrong with her, it would be Roger. He did not need to know anything about her.

After the meeting, the teachers were indifferent to Roger being there. They had seen so many agencies send people into the schools and they didn't like it because it only brought more work for them to do. So only a couple of people walked to the front to meet him. Misha walked to the front to try to catch Mr. Davis before he left.

“Mr. Davis, I need to talk with you.”

“Sure, Misha. What can I do you for?”

“I need to speak to you privately,” she said as she eyed Roger approaching them.

“Hello, Minister Holloway,” Roger said when he reached them.

“You don't have to be so formal, Roger. You can call me Ms. Holloway, or Misha will be fine,” she said as she turned to him, trying to act as if nothing were wrong.

“You two know each other?” Mr. Davis asked.

“Misha and I went to the same church. How are you? You look good.”

“Mr. Davis, I really need to talk with you. It's important.” Misha ignored Roger. There were more important things on her mind. Besides, she could not take his false friendliness after all he had done to her.

“Well, okay. Let's go to my office.”

The surgery waiting room was filled with people waiting to be called back for surgery and their families. Misha sat alone in the big room. No one went with her to the hospital that morning. She drove herself to the hospital. Judy was going to meet her. Her pastor told her one of the deacons and a missionary would probably meet her there to pray with her before surgery. But there she sat, all alone.

When she looked over at a few groups of people, she could see people gathered in prayer. Some had their priest with them. A rabbi sat with one family. There was also someone there who looked like he was Greek Orthodox or a monk or something; she didn't know. All she knew was he was praying for someone.

She tried to hold back the tears as she thought about all the work she did at the church, and no one showed up at the hospital to pray for her during the toughest part of her life. She tried not to look around the room. Each time she did, she wanted to cry. Her family was not even there to support her. Even though she didn't want her mother to be there, it would have helped to have someone there, anybody. She heard her name called. She stood and walked toward the waiting nurse.

“Your family can come back with you,” the nurse said.

“I'm here alone.”

“Oh. Well, I'll take you back to a room. Come with me.” Misha followed the nurse into a small exam room. The nurse handed her a hospital gown and blanket. “You need to completely undress and place your clothing in the bag on the bed.” She pointed to the large plastic bag lying on the hospital bed. “I will be back in a couple of minutes to give you a shot to help you relax.” She walked toward the door and stopped. “Is there anyone you would like to call before we get started?”

“No.”

“Well, okay. I will be right back.”

Before the nurse could return, the anesthesiologist came in and asked her a few questions and left. Then Dr. Trinidad came in and explained the procedure to her again and asked her to sign a surgery consent form for the hysterectomy if needed. She reluctantly signed the form and gave it back to the doctor.

“Your family can come in and wait with you until we're ready for the surgery.”

“I'm here by myself.”

Dr. Trinidad placed her chart on the metal table next to the bed. “Have you made arrangements to get home if we discharge you today?”

“I'll drive myself.”

“You can't do that. Does your family know you're here?”

“My family, my church, my friends, they all know about the surgery. I'm here alone.” Misha's eyes shifted downward; she was embarrassed that she had no support during this tough time in her life.

Dr. Trinidad patted Misha's hand. “Well, we'll have to make arrangements to get you home. You won't be able to drive with the anesthesia. We'll work something out.”

Dr. Trinidad left her in the extremely cold room. She didn't know if she was shaking because of the surgery or the fact that it was so cold in the room. She prayed quietly to herself until a nurse came in and covered her with a warm blanket. She took a long needle and gave Misha the medication to help her relax. Another nurse entered the room just as the medication began to kick in. Misha was feeling groggy but could feel the bed slowly moving toward the operating room.

Misha listened as the last bell of the school day rang. Today, she couldn't wait for the students to clear the hall. She had to get to the doctor's office to get the results of her surgery. As she picked up her bags and headed for the door, Judy walked into the classroom.

“Hey, Misha. You look like you're in a hurry.”

“I've got a follow-up appointment with the doctor today.”

“I know you've got to go. I just came in here to see how you were doing. Look, I'm really sorry I didn't go to the hospital with you. I feel so bad. I thought your family would be there and I didn't want to interfere.”

“Judy, you don't have to apologize to me again. I appreciate you and your husband going to the hospital to get my car out of the parking lot and the food you brought me. That really helped me out a lot.” Misha slung the shoulder strap of her purse over her shoulder.

“Are you going to the doctor alone? Would you like me to go with you? I can have someone pick up the kids.”

“No, I'm fine. If anything were wrong, I would just be getting out of the hospital today. They sent me home. That lets me know everything's fine. Thanks for offering though. I've got to get out of here. I don't want to be late.”

“Mimi, hi. I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?” Roger walked into the classroom, interrupting the conversation they were having. Misha looked at him wearing the shirt and tie she gave him when he got the job at the community center.

“Do you want me to stay?” Judy whispered to Misha.

“No. I'll be fine. I'll call you later.”

Judy walked past Roger and out the door without speaking to him. He stood in the doorway with his hands perched on his hips. He slid to the side, allowing Judy to get past him.

“Roger, what do you want? I've got somewhere to go.”

“I heard you were sick. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I'm fine. You could have called me at home. I was out a week.”

“I started to but I didn't know how you would feel if I called your house.”

“I didn't cut you off. You cut me off. I don't have time for this. I have somewhere to go,” she said, walking toward the door.

“Do you mind if I walk you to your car?”

Misha stopped and stared him in the face. “What do you want, Roger? You haven't spoken to me in months. Now, you show up at my job and want to walk me to my car? What's up?”

“Bishop recommended me to be the pastor of New Horizon Worship Center. I preach there every week now. If you want, you can come sometime.”

Misha couldn't pretend to be happy for him. She wasn't sure if he was ready to be a pastor. If he treated people like he treated her, he would make a lousy pastor. All the kissing up to Bishop was finally paying off. “Look, I'm happy for you. Thanks for the invitation. I'll think about it. Anything else? I've really got to go.”

“No. That's all.” Misha quickly headed for the door. “Mimi.” She turned around. “You look good.”

“I'll see you around.” She walked through the crowded hallway as quickly as she could and ran to her car. She had arrived late that morning and had to park in the dungeon, as they called it. It was the area between the football field house and the baseball practice field. There were a lot of tall trees and shrubbery that shaded the parking area to look like a cave. Misha hated parking there because it was a long walk from the main buildings of the school. So today, she ran to her car.

She threw her bags into the car and turned to get in when she looked up and saw the field house. She saw the vision again. The man was attacking Amber again. This time, she heard Amber scream her name. She stood with one foot in her car, staring at the field house, listening to Amber scream her name, unaware of Coach Wells approaching her.

“Ms. Holloway, is there anything wrong?” he said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

“What?” She broke her stare to see Coach Wells standing in front of her.

“Are you okay? You haven't moved in a few minutes. I knew you were sick. Somebody said you had surgery. Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I just remembered one of my students said he left his book in the field house after gym today. Do you mind if I go in and check to see if it's there?” Not that she lied. A student did tell her he left his book there. It was no big deal. However, it was a great excuse to go in there.

“No, I'll walk with you. Kids are always leaving things in the field house. If I had a dollar for everything they left in there, I could retire.”

Misha walked quickly to the field house. She had never been in the field house and she was taken aback by the musty smell in there. She braced herself against the wall to try to get her breath.

“Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good.”

“I'm fine. It's the smell.”

“I guess I'm used to it. Come on. I'll help you look for the book.” He waved her to follow him.

Misha walked around the field house, not really knowing what she was looking for. Coach Wells talked the entire time as they looked through open lockers, under benches, and in the office. Misha looked for something familiar from the vision. She wanted to hear the sound again. She wanted answers. Admitting defeat, Coach walked Misha to her car and walked away. The parking lot had completely emptied and her car was the lone one remaining. She looked back at the field house, sighed, and hopped into her car for her drive to the doctor's office.

Misha arrived at exactly her appointment time. Since she was the last appointment for the day, she was taken right back to Dr. Trinidad's office. After waiting half an hour, Dr. Trinidad walked in, apologizing for the wait.

“Well, Ms. Holloway, the surgery went well. We scoped your uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes and didn't see any signs of cancer, cysts, endometriosis, or anything that look abnormal,” she said as she flipped through the papers she held in her hand.

Misha wanted to jump from the chair and yell, “Praise God.” However, she sat quietly, listening to the doctor, not wanting to miss anything the doctor said.

“There were some areas in your cervix that we removed. The biopsy showed they were cancerous. They were really small areas but we had to cut a large area around each spot to prevent any possible spread.”

“What does that mean? I don't understand.”

Dr. Trinidad leaned against the sink and folded her arms. “The good news is we got all of it. None of the specimens showed any spread of the disease through the walls of your cervix.”

“And the bad news?” Misha rubbed her hands together.

“Well, we had to cut extensive areas of your cervix. These areas held the mucus membranes that allow sperm to travel to fertilize the egg. These membranes are also needed to lubricate the vaginal area during sex. With this area removed, it will be quite difficult for you to conceive naturally.”

“You mean I still can't have children?”

“I'm not saying that you can't have children. I'm just saying having children naturally will be extremely difficult. When you're ready, I can refer you to a fertility specialist to help you conceive.”

“Let me get this straight. You're saying it's impossible for me to get pregnant naturally?”

“I'm not saying it's impossible. It would take a miracle for you to get pregnant naturally. We're going to follow you closely for about a year to be sure everything's fine and monitor you on a regular basis after that to be sure the cancer doesn't return. But I want to see you back next week. I'm going to check to see how you're healing.”

“Will I need chemo or any other treatment?”

“Since the areas were so small, we'll only monitor you right now. I want you to come in every other week for about three months and monthly for a few months after that. It's good you have regular checkups. We were able to catch it in its early stages.”

Misha left the doctor's office emotionally drained. Dr. Trinidad's words rang in her ear:
It would take a miracle for you to get pregnant.
Driving down the road she began to pray for God to bless her with a child. She prayed God heal her body and allow her to conceive naturally. She pledged to herself she would continue to listen to her healing tapes and declare God's Word over her situation. She loved the Lord and she had faith to believe He would not let her down.

As the rush hour traffic slowed on Interstate 85, she became extremely hungry. She looked around to see where she was. She took the nearest exit to look for a restaurant that would satisfy her hunger. Instead, she pulled into the nearest parking lot. She reached for her phone and punched in her grandmother's number.

“I cooked. Figured you come by after the doctor. I'll be waiting on you.” Her grandmother's voice rang over the phone.

Misha took the next exit and made her way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic to get to her grandmother's house. When she pulled up, her grandmother was sitting on the porch, waiting for her. They greeted each other with a hug.

“Well you ain't all to pieces. Must be good news.”

They walked into the house and Misha could smell the fried chicken. Misha smiled when she saw the perfectly cooked chicken sitting on the stove. She knew her grandmother only cooked chicken two ways, fried and baked, with only salt and pepper as seasoning, but it was the best in Atlanta. She spotted a fresh pie in the oven. “Grandma, is that a blackberry cobbler?”

“Your brother brought them berries to me. I figured I'd make something with them.”

As they sat at the table eating, Misha shared all the doctor had told her that day. Her grandmother encouraged her as Misha gobbled down the blackberry cobbler.

“You talk to yo' mama?”

“Not yet. I'll tell her later.” Misha forked a piece of pie into her mouth.

“I don't know wha' it is 'tween you and yo' mama. She been upset. Scared you 'bout to die.”

“Mama is so negative. That's why I don't talk to her. When I told her about the cancer, she started putting me in the ground. She kept calling me and crying. She didn't even bother to go to the hospital with me. Justin told me she got up in church and told everybody I had cancer and acted like she so upset she passed out. She is such a drama queen, always wanting attention.”

“Don't talk about yo' mama. I know she spoil. We spoil her. I don't know how your daddy puts up with her sometimes.”

“Now who's talking about her?” Misha pulled the foil from the cabinet to wrap a plate of food to take home. “I'm going to have to get you some of those cheap plastic containers so I won't have to take your plates to my apartment.”

Her grandmother got up and went to the other room and came back with a shoebox. She sat down at the table again while Misha stood at the sink washing dishes. “Go in my room. Look in my closet. On the top shelf you see a quilt. Bring it to me.”

Misha wiped the suds off her hands and did what her grandmother asked. She looked at the quilt as she walked back to the table and handed it to her grandmother.

“What's this?” Misha looked into the shoebox.

“This is the family heirloom. Nothing worth selling. Means a whole lot to the family. Look here.” She pulled a small ring from the box. It looked as if someone had twisted two small wires together and joined it at the ends. The metal had darkened with time. “This here's my mama wedding ring. They's po' back then. Daddy made this hisself. Mama wore it 'til day she die.” She picked up the quilt and opened it up.

Misha looked at the unusual pattern on the quilt. Her fingers traced the stitching in the cloth.

“When your mama got married I gave her a quilt. Gave yo' brother and yo' Uncle Paul and his children one too. You know men. Mean nothing to them. This here's yours.”

“You made me a quilt? Why?” Misha sat down across the table from her grandmother and began to look at the different pieces of the quilt.

“This yo' wedding gift. This quilt special. It's a family quilt.”

“You thought Roger and I were getting married?”

“Lord no, child!” She held her head back and laughed so loud it made Misha laugh too. “Child, you and I know Roger ain't your husband. This is for you and your real husband. What's his name?”

“Grandma, I'm not six years old. That was just a little girl's fantasy.”

“What's his name?”

“It was Matthew. Matthew, okay?”

“Well I was planning to give this to you and Matthew. But the Lord tells me to give it to you today.” She pulled the quilt closer to her and began to explain each block on the quilt. “This here is a piece of your granddaddy best Sunday suit. This one he wore on communion Sunday.” She went to another square on the quilt. “This one is piece of your mama dress she wore to school. This is part of Paul Easter suit when he was a little boy. This is you and Justin's baby clothes. This a part of an old house coat I had.”

“Grandma, you got something of everybody on this quilt?”

“Yeah. These two pieces belong to my mama and daddy. Daddy loved them coveralls. Wore them everywhere, even to church.” She reached into the box and pulled out pieces of scrap cloth. “Now this is leftover for you and your children.” She handed the scraps to Misha. She turned them over and each one had a small piece of paper pinned to it with the name of the person it came from on it. Misha looked over each piece. “Go in the living room and fetch me that old Bible on the fireplace.”

Misha went and got the Bible and then handed it to her grandmother and sat down. Her grandmother pushed the shoebox to the side and opened the Bible. “This here is our family. See, this yo' mama and me and George and Paul and Mattie. This is my mama and daddy and your granddaddy's mama and daddy.” She turned the page and pointed to the inscription. “Here is you and Justin and his wife and children. When you get married, you put Matthew name here and your children.” She closed the Bible and handed it to Misha. “Take this. Take all this home with you. Don't tell your mama I give you that Bible. Let me tell her.”