The First: EVO Uprising (43 page)

Her body trembled as her eyes blazed brighter from the anger churning within her.

“
I keep myself busy, sometimes going nights without sleep,” she scowled, tapping the side of her head, “because I know the second I close my eyes, and I lose control I can relive everyone of those nightmares as if I was actually there. I’m surprised I haven’t gone mad yet. And I was afraid of subjecting my child to that. I didn’t think it was fair to do that to her, because she had been through enough! So forgive me, dear Mother, if I did not make the ‘right decision’ concerning you and my child. You didn’t have the opportunity to ‘teach me’ what to do in this type of scenario.”

The kitchen became dead silent as sheer discomfort fell like a thick fog. She knew it would not be a pleasant conversation, but she was not expecting to be judged so harshly for her actions, especially from her mother. No one had the right in her mind, other than her daughter, to judge her for anything she did. She prepared herself to leave while contemplating when she would return.

“
Why ya decide ta build dat village?” her mother asked.

Sophia turned to her mother with her eyebrows furrowed wondering where she was going with this line of questioning from left field.

“
I’m just curious,” Mrs. Dennison shrugged. “You raised dat island and built your house to get away from people. Yuh didn’t even have to raise an island, yuh could have went to de North pole, an…”

She gave her mother a glare telegraphing to her that she was not in the joking mood anymore.

“
I’m just asking,” her mother said seriously. “After all you’ve been through, why create a village? You don’t owe anyone anyting, especially me, and you wanted to be left in peace. So, why create more headache for yourself?  Why?”

She shifted in her seat as she fought to find the words to answer her mother’s semi-innocent question.

“
I had too much wood,” Sophia huffed.

She leaned forward clasping her hands as she stared off into space. Her mind took her back to the day she had finished her new home.

“
I finished the garage and backed Robert’s car into it,” her lips trembled, “and then I realized I bought too many supplies. So I decided to build a shed to store the leftovers. But as I started building, I just kept adding on, until I ran out again. And then I had to buy more supplies to finish it. Then next thing you know, I had built another house, but then I had more leftover supplies than I had before. I didn’t want to be wasteful. So I just kept building, trying to use everything out. But there was always too much wood, or too much cement, or too much varnish left. Before I realized it, I had built eight friggin’ houses.”

A smile formed on her mother’s face as she bobbed her head.

“
Then I was, like, great.” Sophia threw up her arms. “What am I going to do with eight houses! Why didn’t I stop?”

“
Then something told you to fill them up,” her mother answered for her.

“
Yes,” she nodded.

Tears fell from her eyes as she trembled like a leaf. Mrs. Dennison reached over and grasped her hand, rubbing it to comfort her.

“
You are right,” her mother whispered softly. “I will neva know or feel what you have gone through. None one will eva know. And, honestly, I don’t want to know because I’d probably go crazy if I did. Because when you hurt, I hurt, and I would go insane knowing how much pain you had to endure, and I was unable save or protect you from it. And that is what you will neva know, what it is to be a parent and powerless.”

Sophia looked up to see her mother’s eyes glassed over as she held tightly onto her hand.

“
I gave birth to you,” her mother’s voice crackled. “I raised you, watched you grow. I came to Ursuline school and threatened Principal Moore that I’d run my minivan through her school and over dat big fat McGrady girl, the next time the teachers stood by and let her mess wit you. Not that you were a pushover, but you are my child.”

The memory of the incident brought a smile back to her face.

“
And on October 15, 2004,” Mrs. Dennison fumbled her words as her tears fell, “I had to stand there and listen to Judge Kevin Coleman tell me that my child was guilty of a crime I know she did not commit and that he was going to kill her. And there was noting I could do about it.”

The roles were reversed as Sophia now held her mother’s shaking hand as she began to shrink right in front of her.

“
I cursed God on that day, and I wished for that heart attack to kill me,” Mrs. Dennison said, “the second worst day of my life, and he would not let me die, guess what was the first?”

She lifted her gaze to the ceiling as her eyes blazed from falling tears. Her leg twitched as she groaned imagining the ordeal her parents went through on that day.

“
September 1, 2008. I didn’t go to work the week before,” she continued. “I didn’t go to church, I didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, didn’t answer de phone; I didn’t pray. I sat upstairs in you and Gemma’s bedroom watching the clock countdown to midnight… just numb. My tears fell, but I could not cry. Ya poopa downstairs started to bawl like a baby. Him cry so hard I don’t know why him neva had a stroke. I had to run downstairs and hold him and massage him to calm him down. And at 2 AM in the morning, your brother drove us to de airport so that we could make de journey to collect your body, only to find out when we got there, that you were very much alive, and broken out of prison.”

She began to cackle, wiping her eyes as she leaned back.

“
May he be resting by God’s bosom,” she shook her head, “but I neva believed that foo foo story Mr. Armitage tried to sell me about you joining some terrorist organization. I knew something was up, so I thanked him for telling me, brought yuh poopa home, and I waited. And on September 8, 2008, the plan was revealed to me. The night before I saw you on CNN, this whole block was filled with police, FBI, you name it with them big guns, waiting for you. And when you shot into the air of Washington DC for all the world to see, I was de first to run outside yelling, screaming, and strutting up and down the block like I’d won the lotto! Every last one of them jackasses didn’t know what to do with themselves!”

She nodded with pride while rubbing her daughter’s hand.

“
So you have to forgive me, my child,” her mother said earnestly, “if what you went through has not only restored my faith a trillion fold but has turned me into a powerful prayer warrior because, by the laws of man, and by logic and science, you were suppose to be dead, and I, your mother, was suppose to be forced to bury you.”

It was an argument Sophia could not refute as she lowered her head. Mrs. Dennison leaned and raised her daughter’s head as she gazed into her eyes.

“
You tink anyting is new about you, or anyting that is going on?” Mrs. Dennison smiled. “God gave Samson strength to kill a lion, slay an entire army with only de jawbone of an ass, and destroy the temple of Dagon wit de Philistines inside of it. Him give Solomon great wisdom fe rule over de people of Israel, and my God sent Him only Son to walk on water, cast demons out of man, feed masses with a bit of fish and bread, and to die at the hands of man for the sins of the world only to raise again for the dead. Dat bwoy wit de hamma. What him name? Thunda god? Him have nothing on my Jesus Christ!”

A slight smirk appeared on Sophia’s face from her mother’s humorous, yet serious, remarks.

“
And you can believe its science or whatever that saved you, but I know…” Mrs. Dennison paused as tears began to pour from her eyes again, “that my God is Who saved you from death, to show the world that He is God, and only He has power over life and death! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”

Mrs. Dennison clutched the table weeping; Sophia wiped away the tears from her own eyes as she leaned over and gently rubbed her  mother’s back.

 
“
And the thing all three of those heroes of the Lord have in common is that in their most weakest of moment dem called upon a Higher Power for help. Even the Son of Man Himself called for His Father,” her mother said through her sobs. “You are not an island! You cannot keep holding tings like these inside and dealing with them on your own, when you have a family and a God willing to share your pain and burden with you. Dat is what makes you normal! And then you just pop up out of nowhere and go ‘by the way, I’m going through dis and dat.’ Dat is unfair to us, and it is unfair to you! You ah doctor, and you nuh no stress kills? Family was created to ease stress and to carry each other’s burden to make the load lighter! Dat is why we are here!”

She grasped her daughter’s hand, holding it up tightly, and kissed it.

“
Put your trust in God, yuh hear me? Him bring you this far, him will bring you all of the way. Now,” her voice gained strength again, “the next time I see you, I betta see me granpickney next to you. How old is she?”

“
Ten,” Sophia said meekly.

Her mother looked at her as if she wanted to take something and smack her. Sophia leaned back on instinct fearing she would.

“
I want to see her,” she said again, “and don’t you worry! Make whoever wan fe come, come! Dem tink you bad? Where dem tink you get it from? Ah one mad Jamaican and Belizean give birth to you. Ah, lead soup we drink and our forehead we use fe cotch steel door. Make dem come!”

Her mother’s odd tough humor had a way of bringing lightness back into a room. She could not help but to laugh, which made her mother, who was attempting to be serious, laugh as well.

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

The next twenty minutes before she left her mother prepared a backpack filled with snacks such as Jamaican Bulla cake and Belizean style Gizzada. She also threw in some lotion, a Gospel CD of her choir’s latest concert, and some fingernail polish.

Sophia protested that she did not need to carry the items and that her mother would see the child tomorrow, but her mother demanded that she carry them anyway to her grandchild.

“
And you make sure she gets these,” she reminded her as they walked out the door.

“
Yes, Mom,” Sophia sighed.

“
And remember!” her voice got louder, “I don’t want to just see her tomorrow! She’s spending the weekend with me so she better have a dress to go to church! If she don’t have one I will go out and buy one for her!”

“
Yes, Mom,” Sophia groaned.

“
Now come give your mother a hug before you go!” she commanded.

Sophia trudged over wrapping her arms around her. She got back a kiss with a tighter hug, and a ten minute prayer filled with tears giving thanks and asking for safe travels.

She exited the gate getting ready to take off, her heart much lighter than when she came until a familiar vehicle pulled up putting a scowl on her face. She threw on her hood hiding her displeasure from her mother as her youngest sister Gemma stepped out of her vehicle wearing a nervous look.

“
Auntie Sophee! It’s auntie Sophee!” young voices screamed.

Spilling out from a jeep were her three nieces Natasha, Joyce, and Anita, along with her nephew, Austin, who was the second eldest of the four, stemming from ages eleven, eight, six, and four years old. They swarmed her forcing her to throw a smile on her face as she knelt down to hug them all.

Showing her strength as a treat she stood up lifting all four of them up as they held on tightly. She gave them all kisses before setting them back down.

“
Are you staying? Are you staying?” they all chimed in.

“
No babies,” she smiled. “I just came to visit Grandma. I have to leave.”

“
When are we going to see you again?” asked Anita.

“
Soon honey,” she smiled rubbing her head, “maybe this Saturday.”

“
All right granpickneys,” her mother clapped, “ya auntie half to leave, come inside the gate!”

They each gave her one last hug and kiss before entering the gate to greet their grandmother. Sophia walked away without acknowledging her younger sister. Gemma cautiously walked up to her hoping not to make a scene.

“
Hi,” was all she managed to say.

“
Mom texted you and told you I was here?” Sophia bluntly asked.

“
No, I came to drop something off to her,” Gemma answered defensively.

“
Yeah right.” She sucked her teeth.

“
Look can we please talk,” she pressed.

Sophia, towering over her sister, made sure her back was fully turned to her mother and the children so they did not see the disgust and contempt she had for her.

“
About what, Gemma? It’s been almost six years now.” Her eyes began to glow brighter. “What exactly do you think is going to be any different from our last conversation or how the hell I feel toward you?”

“
I don’t know how many times I can say how much I am sorry for what I thought and said about you,” her voice quivered. “God, it was stupid, and I never should have thought or said those things.”