Unspoken Words Page 3

  “Thank you, Ramona,” he sniffled.

  “Here, put this on,” Ramona smirked, reentering the room and handing Dexter a hot pink training bra, black skirt, and Momma Dee’s blond, pixie-cut wig.

  “I’m not a girl,” he fussed, shoving Ramona’s hand.

  “Oh yes, you are! Now, put this on and get to cleaning, little Miss CinderFella.”

  Dexter sobbed as he draped himself in humiliation.

  “Keep crying, and I’m going to give you something to cry about,” Ramona threatened.

  After many gruesome months of being tortured by his foster sisters, Dexter took an interest in any and everything his G-ma Dye had going on. He did whatever he could to avoid being left alone with his foster sisters, especially Ramona. Without fail, no matter how old they were, they took pleasure in making his life a living hell. It seemed as if the older they got, the worse they were.

  Dexter ended up spending so much time with G-ma Dye at church that he didn’t pay attention to the fact that his foster sisters moved out and found a place of their own. They came for Sunday dinner faithfully and sometimes during the week, depending on their financial situations at those times. However, it was nothing like living under the same roof with them. When they came by, Diane and Reginald would be home, interfering with their light torment of Dexter until it subsided.

  * * *

  The more time Dexter spent in church, the more curious he became about the things being ministered and taking place. He wanted to know more about this God who kept Diane and Reginald out of the house more than they were at home and had parishioners passing out in church, crying, and flipping out of their shoes and wigs. All of this was difficult for Dexter to believe and comprehend. He didn’t understand how everyone had these experiences they were talking about. They were worshiping and celebrating someone they’ve never seen. Dexter became enthralled with seeing what would happen next each time he attended a church service, so much so that he carried a pen and notebooks to take notes of the actions and reactions that took place.

  At the age of 14, Dexter sprouted up, wise beyond his years. He hung on to and dissected every word that emerged from the speaker of the hour’s mouth. For instance, if the pastor said something to the congregation or an individual, and it caused an aftereffect, Dexter wrote down the word, scripture, or message that prompted the response and studied it. No matter how much he analyzed things, however, it became even more difficult for him to digest the dynamics of such forces propelling people to respond in such theatrical manners. Thus, it prompted him to pinpoint the exact formula that produced such mind-blowing results.

  Because of Dexter’s spirit of inquiry, he obsessively searched the scriptures in-depth, seeking answers. He scrutinized the passages of scripture to the point that he became captivated with all things godlike, divine, and heavenly. While other 14-year-old boys busied themselves with video games, goofing around, and girls, Dexter read, wrote, and devoured his sixty-six books of positive direction and prescriptions. His fixation consumed him so much that he could not concentrate or focus in school, which caused him to fall behind in class due to either reading his Bible while in class or skipping school.

  “Dexter, come in here right now!” G-ma Dye roared.

  As anxiety curdled his stomach, Dexter made his way to the front room. He had practiced repeatedly in the mirror what he’d say to G-ma Dye this weekend. However, from the tone of her voice, he could tell she had made it to the mailbox before he got to it today. Dexter had made sure to beat her to the mailbox every day to retrieve the absentee notifications.

  Trying to keep his knees from buckling under the weight of his wobbly body, Dexter entered, tripping over his words, “Y-yes, G-ma D-dye.”

  “How are you missing days and failing when you go to school every day and spend countless hours studying and doing homework before and after school in the library?”

  “G-ma Dye, the Bible says in everything we do we must put God fir—”

  “What does that have to do with you missing school and failing your classes?”

  “I never planned to miss school. I went to the library before school to read, and I ended up getting lost in my studies. I lost track of time.”

  “What are you studying if you’re failing everything connected to the school, Dexter? Better yet, how in God’s name are you able to spend all of that time in the library without someone calling the school?”

  “No one paid me any attention for a while . . . until a couple of weeks ago. Then one clerk asked me questions at the library over by the school, so I took the bus to the one across town, and it was as if no one knew I was there.”

  “They ought to be ashamed of themselves—”

  “I apologize, G-ma. I know I should be in school, but it’s just so hard to explain. In the beginning, I was going to church with you just to get away from Ramona and the other girls. Then every time I saw how the pastor or speakers talked, their words made people cry, scream, or fall out on the floor. In the beginning, I thought it was some circus routine because it seemed so unreal to me. But the more I went, the more it made me want to understand what was happening and how it happened. So, I began to study every movement and word. I still don’t know how it happened, but what I know is the more I read, the more specific things became clear to me. G-ma, right now, I think God is calling me, and school is getting in the way.”

  “Lord, have mercy, Dye. The boy has found the Lord,” Reginald interjected.

  Mumbling incoherently through her hands, Diane choked on her sobs.

  No longer speaking as a teenager, but as an adult, Dexter’s voice poured out like a river. “Why are you crying, G-ma? I thought if anyone could understand what was happening to me, you could. I could feel it bubbling over in the pit of my stomach. The Lord put a strong word in my heart. Upon waking and going to bed, the Bible is heavily on my mind. I even dreamed about me preaching before people. I didn’t ask for this, G-ma Dye. I began studying as a joke to mimic everyone, but something caught hold of me.”

  Through constant sniffles as if she were resisting tears, Diane babbled, “I-I’ve prayed for this, baby. All I want is for you to know God for yourself and not for the God I know and taught you to know, baby. I-I didn’t think it’d happen to you now at this age, honey. My heart is overjoyed.”

  The very next day, Diane made arrangements to have Dexter homeschooled. They spent at least three to four hours a day studying the Bible.

  It had gotten to the point that Dexter could go to the Bible, pull a text, prepare, and memorize a ten-minute sermon. At 16, their senior pastor appointed Dexter youth pastor of New Life Christian Center. At this tender age, he based his motto on his stern belief that life is no fluke of nature. God does nothing accidentally, and He never made mistakes. Dexter not only appealed to the youth but the elderly as well. His keen eye for details manifested in the elaborate vision attracting the young, the old, and nonbelievers.

  Chapter Four

  The Battle Within . . .

  Years of trying to uphold a high standard and being placed on a pedestal, unlike other girls your age, can take a toll on you. Naomi-Ruth was born into this, and it’s been with her forever. She was and will always be the daughter of a preacher. There wasn’t any way around it. The fact of the matter is she was born to Reverend Levi and First Lady Vera Patterson. Although she entered the world an only child, like every other PK, Naomi-Ruth shared her dad and mom with the church. Everyone in the congregation was her brother and sister, forcing Naomi-Ruth to live in a glass bubble doubled with high expectations.

  Naomi-Ruth had been a real good preacher’s daughter. . . until she turned 16 and let it all loose. Then she became a hell-raiser. She wasn’t mean and vengeful, but any time she could misbehave, she did. Naomi-Ruth looked forward to communion Sunday because she sneaked out of Sunday school and into the kitchen and drank the communion juice.

  Growing up with an unwavering foundation in and around the Bible, Naomi-Ruth lived by her father
’s teachings. God is our protector, and He will not allow any harm to come near her or her dwelling. At least, that had been her interpretation of the scripture. This text, in particular, was one of the first scriptures she learned as it was what her parents fashioned their lives after. However, all of that changed, and Naomi-Ruth began to second-guess things when she became a sophomore in high school.

  “Nomi, do you think your parents will allow you to join the basketball team if you make it?”

  “I hope so, Dez. I believe as long as I stay on top of my studies, and it doesn’t interfere too much with the church, they shouldn’t have a problem.”

  Unable to hide the sarcastic-filled smirk on her face, Dez shot back, “You must have forgotten that your dad knows nothing outside of that church, so he’ll think it’s a sin.”

  “That’s a good one, but you’re wrong. Dad was accepted to a division-one school and—”

  “What? You never told me that one before.”

  “You never listen, Dez. Where do you think I got this ball handle and crossover from?” She dribbled the ball between her legs.

  “Me.” Desirae took the ball from her.

  “You wish, don’t you? But Dad turned it down because he said God called him into ministry.”

  “He could have preached on the court if he were that good. Do you know how hard it is to get into a D-1 school? My brother has been trying for years.”

  Knocking the ball out of her hand, Naomi-Ruth clowned, “And it will be decades or forever because Raymond sucks.”

  “Whatever. You better talk to your parents tonight because the coach is posting second cuts tomorrow.”

  After releasing a sigh, Naomi-Ruth mumbled, “I’m on it.”

  “Good. Now, let’s head home. I’m starving.”

  “I have to meet Mr. Wesley to take that test I missed. Just go, greedy. I’ll do my usual swing by before going home when I finish.”

  Opening her locker, Naomi-Ruth could hear what sounded like footsteps coming toward her. Knowing she had entered the locker room alone, her pulse speeded up. “It’s nothing,” she told herself. “Yeah, I’m imaging things.” Then her eyes darted back and forth as the floorboard groaned.

  Freezing, all of her breath was trapped in her throat after realizing she was not alone and that someone was in the locker room with her. Naomi-Ruth whipped her head around as a cry broke from her lips. “Stop playing, Dez. Is that you?”

  Nothing and no one responded. Her pulse roared, and fear flashed through her as a hand muffled her mouth from behind.

  Before Naomi-Ruth could process what was happening, she was thrown to the floor. Instantly, she became paralyzed with fear as her gym shorts and panties were torn from her flesh.

  “What took you so long?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nomi, look at me. What’s wrong with you? Why do you look like that?”

  “N-nothing . . . No reason . . .”

  “Why are you crying? You’re scaring me. Please, talk to me. What happened to you?”

  Dropping to her knees, Naomi-Ruth bent forward on the floor, pressing her palms to the carpet. She began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

  Kneeling beside her, Desirae pressed through her tears. “Nomi, whatever it is, we can talk about it. You’re scaring me. Do you want me to call your parents?”

  “No. Please don’t. It’s my fault. I should have listened to my parents. But, no, I didn’t want constant teasing, so I sneaked and wore your pants to school. Now, I’m being punished by God for disobeying my parents.”

  Naomi-Ruth’s parents were firm believers that women were to adorn themselves in dresses and skirts because pants were for men. Women were dainty and could not be daintily dressed like a man. God created man to be the head and lead, and unless a woman was unsure of herself and her role, she should never concern herself with things of a man. In translation . . . A man and a man alone wears pants.

  “What are you saying? Punish for what? God won’t punish you for wearing pants, Nomi. You’re scaring me,” she sniffled.

  Her voice cracked as her eyes burned with tears. “All I could hear was his heavy breathing and the smell of the cologne he wore. I prayed over and over, staring at the ceiling, trying not to feel his violation. He pushed himself inside of me repeatedly, Dez. I could feel my insides rip,” she wailed.

  “What are you saying, Nomi? Who did this to you?”

  “I-I don’t know. I couldn’t see his face. T-The lights went out, so it was dark when he came up from behind me.”

  “We need to call your parents. I’ll go get my mom.”

  “No. Please don’t. This is my fault. I should never have disobeyed them. I’ll be fine.”

  “Stop saying that. God doesn’t punish like that. He’s a God of love, not rape, Nomi.”

  She bawled harder. “He punished me, Dez. God wasn’t supposed to let any harm come near me or my dwelling. But I didn’t honor my parents. I sinned, Dez. I sinned.” She grew hysterical.

  “That’s so far from the truth. I refuse to believe that. Please stop thinking like that, Nomi.”

  “It’s true, Dez. Just promise you won’t say anything to anyone. I-I’ll have to make something up. I can’t tell them. Promise me you won’t tell anyone, Dez. Please, promise me.”

  After Naomi-Ruth’s painful wardrobe change back into the skirt she left home wearing that morning, she and Desirae made their way to Naomi-Ruth’s house. The deafening silence they shared on their way over was so thick they could carve it with a knife. Although Desirae struggled with keeping Naomi-Ruth’s secret, she honored her wishes. She even went as far as cosigning the story Naomi-Ruth planned to tell her parents.

  Their bond was so strong and tight-knit that upon meeting each other, they swore allegiance to each other that neither dared to violate. Naomi-Ruth and Desirae had lived next door to each other since they were 2 years old. Desirae was from the neighborhood, and her mother didn’t attend church. Whenever Desirae attended service, it was always in the church van with Naomi-Ruth, her parents, and a few other kids from the neighborhood. As far as they could remember, Naomi-Ruth and Desirae had been inseparable. They did everything together, and since Desirae’s mom was a single parent who worked more than she was home, Desirae spent most of her youth with the Pattersons.

  * * *

  Naomi-Ruth bit her lip and became interested in the strokes of chocolate-brown tones of the tiger-wood flooring in the foyer once inside the house.

  “Naomi-Ruth, what spirit you done brought with you up in my house?” her mother greeted her.

  “I-I had to rush home after school, and some girls jumped Nomi on her way home for no reason,” Desirae said, bursting into tears.

  Naomi-Ruth stood motionless. She didn’t understand how God could allow this to happen, even while blaming herself for disobeying her parents. She believed what the Bible said about no harm coming near her, yet God allowed her most sacred possession to be taken from her.

  “H-How could this have happened, Mama? Why would God do this to me?” Her lips trembled.

  Tilting her head like a confused dog, Vera seized Naomi-Ruth by the wrist, pulling her against her. She snuggled her in her warmth and whispered in her ear, “Baby, God didn’t do this. He loves you just like we do. God doesn’t cause harm. He protects—”

  “He protects, Mama? Protects? Where was my protection then? You do so much for your God and that church, and look how He repaid you. He didn’t think twice about protecting your daughter. Some protect—”

  Rage boiled through Vera’s body so violently that she barely had a chance to think about her actions. The only thought running through her head was preventing any further blasphemy escaping from Naomi-Ruth’s lips. Without a moment’s hesitation, Vera drew her hand back, making sure the slap she delivered would sting when it landed on her daughter’s face. The unexpected pain buckled her knees, bringing her down. The sound of skin-to-skin contact reverberated around the room.

/>   “I hate you and your God!”

  “Please, stop, Mrs. Patterson. She’s already hurt. She didn’t mean any of it,” Desirae begged.

  Unable to control the rage consuming her, Vera blacked out for a moment, leaping toward Naomi-Ruth. She slid her hands around her throat as the child’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Vera, what are you doing? Turn her loose. The devil is a liar. He will not run rampant in my house. Leave right now,” Levi rebuked, opening the front door.

  Snapping out of it, Vera regained her composure and sobbed. “Levi, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I am so sorry. Naomi-Ruth was cursing our Heavenly Father, and I lost my—”

  After jumping to her feet, Naomi-Ruth charged past him, throwing over her shoulder, “She slapped and choked me, Dad! That’s what she did. I was hurt at school, and just like your God didn’t protect me then, He didn’t protect me from your wife either. I hate all of you! You’re so caught up in that church you forgot how to be my parents.”

  “Nomi, please, stop! Come back here,” Desirae pleaded.

  Pushing her arms back and forth, Desirae jetted behind Naomi-Ruth as a car came from out of nowhere—slamming into her best friend.

  Chapter Five

  I Hate My Life . . .

  After suffering scalp lacerations, contusions, and a concussion, Naomi-Ruth spent a few days hospitalized. While there, she was left mostly alone with her thoughts. Her parents accompanied her to the hospital. However, after praying and learning that Naomi-Ruth wasn’t in any grave danger, they made their way home.

  “What do you do when death seems more attractive than trying to go on another day? How can God treat me this way? Why does He ignore my cries? God doesn’t love me. How can He when He ignores my prayers, and I begged for that man to stop it? If God didn’t care, why will anyone else? If I were no longer here, no one would have to worry or bother with me,” Naomi-Ruth asked herself in her darkest hours of contemplating suicide.