Rain Storm Page 23

“I should be able to talk to you about this stuff. But if I can’t discuss things like this with you, just let me know,” Keith said.

  Isaac held up his hand. “Point taken. I’m here for you – I’m focused.”

  Keith sat down at his kitchen table. “You want to go over there with me? She’s in a little town called…”

  They plotted and planned their sneak attack for hours. Then Isaac said, “It’s not going to work, man.”

  “What do you mean?” Keith asked. “All we have to do is find the house she’s in and bring her back home.”

  “Hear me out, Keith. The problem isn’t finding Cynda. I don’t even think we’d have too much of a problem dragging her out of that house if it came to that. The problem you’re going to have is keeping her here once you bring her back.”

  “She’ll stay. She loves me, Isaac.”

  Isaac held up a hand. “But she doesn’t want to love you. Nor does she want you wasting your life loving her, right?”

  “That’ll change. I just need more time with her.”

  “No,” Isaac said as he stood up and put on his jacket.

  Keith stood. “What do you mean; no?”

  “You’re not going after her. I’m going.”

  Keith laughed. “She hates your guts.”

  “And that’s why I should be the one to talk to her. I’m one of the people who didn’t think she should be with you, remember?”

  “Exactly. So how will your going to find her make her want to rush home to me?”

  “Do I have to spell everything out to you? You road the short yellow bus to school didn’t you?” Isaac laughed and picked his keys up off the table. “She needs to know that this thing between you and her can work and that she’s not ruining your life by being with you. Since I’m the one who told her she has no business being with you, I think I should be the one to turn this thing around.”

  Keith twisted his lips. “I don’t know.”

  Isaac put his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You’ve been there for me every time I needed a friend. Let me do this for you.”

  33

  “Thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible one is as a storm against the wall.” Cynda stopped reading and put the Bible in her lap.

  Ms. Dobbs glanced at her. “Well, say what’s on your mind, Beautiful One.”

  “This verse reminds me of a song I heard once.” She was thinking about the song that Keith played as they drove home from Dayton. “Do you think that God is really right in the middle of our pain and our problems?”

  “I most certainly do. He’s always been right here with me.”

  “Then why won’t He do anything to help us? I mean, if this God really does exist? And okay, maybe the idea of a God in heaven doesn’t seem so far fetched to me anymore. But why does He seem to favor some and spit on others?”

  “That’s not God spitting on you, Beautiful One. Man does the spitting, God’s the one that cleans us up. But come to think of it, God uses man to do the cleaning also. Like when somebody speaks a kind word to you, that’s God’s sprinkler system.”

  “Or when someone loves you for no reason. Not even caring if you love them back. You think that’s God’s sprinkler system too?” Cynda asked.

  “Yes, I do,” she said softly, then touched Cynda’s hand. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  She was tired of pretending. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I keep breathing – I hurt from missing him that bad. Didn’t know I had it in me to feel this way about a man.”

  “Why don’t you go back home? Why do you put yourself through this?”

  She would never tell this woman what she used to be. She couldn’t take seeing the disappointment in her eyes. She’d done enough by admitting that the baby she was carrying didn’t belong to her husband. But she did want to help this nice lady understand. “I’m not right for Keith, ma’am. He’s good and Godly and I am as unholy as you can get.

  “So I’m willing to hurt and miss him for the rest of my life if that means he’ll find someone special. That’s what I’d like God to do for him.”

  Ms. Dobbs stretched her hands out to Cynda. “So, would you like to pray about it?”

  Cynda started to decline, but this was for Keith. And she’d discovered that she was willing to do just about anything for the man that God sent to clean her up. “Yeah, let’s pray for Keith. I’m all for that.” They clamped their hands together, then Cynda said, “Wait. How do we know that God will even hear my prayers?”

  With a twinkle in her eyes, Ms. Dobbs smiled and said, “We don’t. But I do know that He hears mine.”

  ***

  Isaac showed Cynda’s picture door to door at coffee shops and the only barber shop in the small town. He went to the grocery store and on and on. Several of the town’s people remembered Cynda.

  “How could I forget a knock-out like that?” one of the men he interviewed asked. But none knew where she was working. No one but the clerks at the grocery store had even seen her in the past week.

  A temp agency was located across the street from the grocery store. I couldn’t remember if Cynda had ever done any clerical work, but he thought he’d give it a try anyway. The lady at the temp agency asked, “Is her no-good husband looking for her?”

  Isaac could only imagine the lies Cynda told these people. He was half tempted to tell the woman the real deal.

  “She tried to convince me that her husband was some kind of good guy. But what woman in her right mind would leave a good man with a kid on the way?” the woman said, sucking her teeth.

  There it was. Cynda hadn’t been down here bad mouthing Keith to make herself look good. And here he was about to tell all of the girl’s business. He looked to heaven and mouthed, Lord, keep me near the cross. Isaac wanted to learn how to forgive so that a person’s prior transgressions were completely washed away. He wanted to be able to see people as Jesus saw them – completely washed in the blood. Would that ever happen for him?

  His cell rang. It was Keith and he was tempted not to answer. The love-sick pup had called him three times in the last hour already. But then again, he’d be climbing the walls if the shoe was on the other foot and Keith was out looking for Nina. “What’s up?” he answered.

  “I’ve got an address for you,” Keith said.

  “How were you able to accomplish that?” Isaac asked, astonished.

  “The favor of God, my friend.” Keith laughed. “Actually, I Googled it.”

  “You what?”

  “I see you are as inapt with computers as I am. I put the phone number through an Internet search and came up with the address.”

  Keith gave the street address to Isaac along with driving directions. That boy wanted his woman back, like right now.

  When Isaac pulled up to the ranch-style house, he sat in his car contemplating his next move. Rubbing his thumb and index finger across his chin he watched as Cynda opened the front door with broom in hand and began sweeping the porch and steps. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Gone were the three to four inch signature heels. She had on a pair of simple black flat shoes. Isaac knew she was pregnant, but he still imagined her in something a bit more flashy than stretchy black pants and a big white t-shirt. This was not the Cynda he’d grown to know and hate. But maybe this was God’s way of showing him something new?

  See her differently, son.

  “I’m trying, Lord. I’m really trying.”

  34

  Isaac knocked on the door and waited as footsteps thudded toward him.

  Cynda scowled at him as she opened the door. “What do you want?”

  Isaac reminded himself of Pastor Paul’s message, a Godly man bridles his tongue. “Your husband wants you home. He wants you to stop running away from him.”

  “Who’s at the door?” a woman called from the back room.

  Cynda yelled, “Nobody.”
>
  Isaac spoke up. “I’m a friend of Cynda’s husband. He’s been looking for her.”

  “Oh my Goodness, come in here. I need to see you,” Ms. Dobbs said, anxiously moving around in her bed.

  Cynda rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind Isaac and showed him to Ms. Dobb’s bedroom. The aged woman reached out her hands and Isaac took them. “I’m Geraldine Dobbs, and you couldn’t have come at a more opportune time,” she said, all smiles.

  “Why is that ma’am?” Isaac asked.

  Still smiling, Ms. Dobbs said, “I’ve been laying here praying for my Beautiful One.” She looked at Cynda for a moment then turned back to Isaac. “She’s hurting real bad. But I knew she would never go back to that man without some help. So I prayed and prayed that God would help him find her.”

  Isaac smiled now. “God is in the helping business.”

  Ms. Dobbs looked to heaven and waved her hand. “Yes, He is.” She then squeezed Isaac’s hand. “Now you go talk some sense into that girl. Tell her to go home so that man of hers can help take care of that baby.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Isaac said then turned back to Cynda. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  Her eyes rolled again as she walked out of the room with Isaac following behind. “I’ll be on the porch if you need me, Ms. Dobbs,” she said while opening the front door.

  Cynda sat down on the porch swing as silence engulfed the space between them.

  Finding his voice Isaac told her, “Your husband needs you.”

  “Keith is better off without me,” Cynda said, “He just doesn’t know it yet.” She lifted her feet so the swing could rock her. “Why don’t you go tell him all the reasons I’m no good for him again? Maybe he’ll listen this time. After all, I did prove you right on one point. I left him again, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but you proved me wrong on the other. You didn’t go back to prostitution.”

  “Well, don’t sing my praises. I was two seconds from going back on the street when this job fell in my lap.”

  “Do you really think you could have gone back to that lifestyle after coming so far away from it?”

  She put her elbow on her thigh and her hand on her chin as she pondered his question. Then with straight forward honesty she told him. “I could have gone back.”

  “If you accepted a job like this, taking care of an elderly lady, basically being a recluse yourself, I don’t think you would have gone back to prostitution.”

  Nodding, she replied, “I would have gone back, but then I would have killed myself – just so I wouldn’t have to numb the feeling of guilt and shame.”

  He pictured her standing before him at the tent revival accusing him of selling her into prostitution. Then he remembered the day he took her over to Spoony’s and how he’d been disgusted with her. How he’d wanted out of the relationship. And then he remembered Spoony saying, “Man, let me know when you are through with that.”

  He was tired of Cynda so he responded, “Do me that favor.”

  Spoony sat down and rubbed his hands together before asking, “How much you want for her? I know she’s been running your stuff since Valerie died. I’m prepared to compensate you.”

  Laughing, he told Spoony, “Man, give me fifty cents, I don’t care. Just take her off my hands.”

  All these years Isaac had been delivered from the game, delivered from running women, and he never even apologized to Cynda. He’d been too caught up in the things she’d done to him. But now as he chose to see it her way, he realized that he’d brought all that on himself. If he hadn’t been so callous with her feelings, she wouldn’t have snitched to the police on him, and he was sure she would have told him about his child.

  “I’m sorry, Cynda. I have wronged you on so many levels.” He closed his eyes. He reopened them and told her, “I wish to God I could take back what I’ve--”

  Raising her hand, she said, “Don’t even sweat it. You were right about me.”

  Sitting down next to her, he lifted her face, forcing her to look at him. “No, I was wrong about you. Keith was right. From the moment he married you he loved and believed in you.” He stretched forth his hands, sweeping them up and down her attire. “You’re changing, Cynda. Day by day you are becoming the person Keith has always believed you could be.”

  “His love has changed me. That’s why I have got to love him enough to stay away.”

  Isaac put his finger over her lips, silencing her. “See it differently, Cynda. Love him enough to make him happy.”

  “I want him to be happy. That’s why I left.”

  “You make him happy. If you don’t go back, the man will die alone. You are the only one he wants.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

  “Well, he’s hurting right now.” Standing back up he said, “Our daughter misses you too, Cynda. She wants you in her life.”

  “Wait a minute. Did you just say our daughter?”

  “That’s what she is, right?”

  She stood now. “Yeah, but every since you found out about Iona, she’s only been your daughter, like I had nothing to do with her.”

  “Okay, I can see that you’re one of those people that don’t forgive easily. You like to hold stuff over people’s head, so I think you really need to go home, because you need Keith for things like this.”

  “And you need Nina.”

  “True that. But I’m not a fool, Cynda. I’m going home to my wife. What about you?”

  She stood up off the swing and slowly walked the length of the porch. Clasping her hands together and then unclasping them. She turned to Isaac. “And you promise that you won’t give me any problems about seeing Iona?”

  “We’ll work something out. And I’ll be reasonable.”

  “And you really don’t think Keith will find someone else if I stay away a little longer?”

  “No, Cynda. He only wants you.”

  A big grin covered her face. “Okay. Tell my husband that I’ll be home as soon as I find someone to take over my responsibilities here.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to go over to well with Keith. Why don’t you let me take you home today?”

  “I can’t do that, Isaac. Ms. Dobbs has been good to me. She’s bedridden, so I can’t just leave her with no one to take care of her.”

  “Okay, I’ll go tell your husband that he should expect you in a couple of days. Hopefully he won’t punch me for botching the job he sent me to do.” Jokingly, he massaged his jaw. “Your husband has a violent streak. You know that, right?”

  Laughing, Cynda nudged him. “He was provoked. You just can’t mess with the man’s wife and expect to get away with it.” She stopped laughing and pointed a finger at him. “And that’s another thing; no more sermons about me.”

  “You should have been at the revival the next night. The sermon was on me. And I didn’t like it much either.”

  Cynda went back inside to see about Ms. Dobbs and Isaac drove back to Keith’s house. With the traffic, it took Isaac an hour to get back to Keith’s house. When he arrived, Isaac gave his friend a play by play of the events.

  Keith’s eyes bulged. “She’s not coming back until she finds a replacement?”

  “Don’t sweat it, man. The thing is, she wants to come home. She wasn’t running game on me. She’ll be here, just be patient.”

  “All right. Thanks for your help, man. Can I take you to dinner or something?”

  “Naw, I’m straight. I’ve got one more stop to make before I head home, I’ll pick up something before I go there.”

  They hugged and said their goodbyes.

  Thirty minutes later, Isaac found himself parked in front of his father’s house – Another person he’d figured God allowed him to hate and to deny forgiveness. After all, the man had killed his mother. Subsequently, his little brother had also been murdered. He hated thinking about that thirteen year-old boy that had become so lost – hated going back to that awful time. But sitting in front of this
house, there was nothing else he could do but remember…

  When they arrived home from church that day, Isaac’s usually-wrong daddy started in on his mother. It was just barely one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, but that no-job having mug had a beer in his hand talkin’ ‘bout, “Where’s my dinner? Do I have to do everything around here?”

  How doing nothing but lying on your lazy behind had turned into ‘doing everything around here,’ Isaac didn’t know. Nor did he have time to ponder it. He headed upstairs to change out of his Sunday best and get away from the drama. He opened his top drawer to put away his tie and socks. His thick red sock that held his money had been moved from its normal spot at the left corner of his drawer. The sock had also depreciated since he last checked it. “That bum robbed me again,” Thirteen year old Isaac said.

  That’s when he heard his mother scream. Isaac swore under his breath and slammed his dresser drawer shut. “That’s it. He is getting outta here.” He opened his bedroom door and stormed down the stairs.

  Slam! Boom! Crash!

  By the time Isaac made it to the living room, Donavan was on the phone dialing 9-1-1. Usually-wrong was standing over his Mama yelling, “Get up, girl! Ain’t nothing wrong with you.”

  Isaac looked at his Mama. She was stretched out on the floor, on top of the glass that used to be the coffee table. Blood was splattered all over the ugly orange carpet. Mama wasn’t moving.

  “What did you do to my Mama?” Isaac yelled at his father.

  “Boy, don’t question me,” his father spat, waving his hand. “Go on back upstairs.”

  “I said, what did you do to my Mama?”

  Isaac’s daddy turned to face him. “Oh, so you smelling yourself now, huh? You want a piece of me, boy?”

  Isaac looked at the still form of his mother. His lip curled as he balled his fist. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want.”

  Donavan interrupted. “Come on, Isaac. Don’t do this. The ambulance is on its way.”

  Usually-wrong rubbed his fist in his palm. “Come on, boy. I’m gon’ give you the whuppin’ of your life.”

  A savage rage boiled in Isaac that he could not contain. When it exploded, his dad was pummeled with the residue of Isaac’s violence, but he still didn’t win. When the ambulance and police arrived on the scene, they carried his sweet Mama out in a body bag. Usually-wrong went to the hospital. Isaac went to juvee.