Under the Cypress Moon (24 page)

Nothing really seemed to ease Shylah's mind, no matter what else she did.  Bored with everything, she sprawled across the couch in the parlor and attempted sleep.  Even that seemed too much.  Her mind would not let her find peace, but as long as the three men that mattered most to her were alright, she would be as well.

Only once on the way to visit the Bedoe family did T.L. have difficulty driving, though that once was more than enough to frighten both Mark and Darius.

"T.L.?!  T.L., you ok," Mark snapped, shaking the seat in front of him.

"What?  Yeah.  I'm ok, man.  My right eye, a little blurry, ya know?  I don't know if I should be drivin'.  I'm pullin' over.  Daddy, you take the wheel, ok?"

"Good idea, Son.  We don't need the three of us gettin' hurt.  Enough folks been hurt lately.  But you gonna call that doctor and get you an earlier appointment?  You need it."

"Yeah, Daddy.  I'll do that.  I'll call him tomorrow.  I ain't goin' a week like this," T.L. said almost caustically as he rubbed his eye.

"Hey," Darius shouted as he nudged T.L. aside to take the driver's seat, nearly pushing T.L. into the fender, T.L. having stopped instead of continuing around the truck, "Don't you be rubbin' that eye!  You know what the doctor said.  No rubbin', no scratchin'.  Go get in the truck.  We got places to go, Boy."

Darius, as soon as T.L. was in, laid into the gas, propelling the truck at tremendous speed toward the Bedoe house, which was still more than five miles away.

"Slow down, Daddy!  Damn," T.L. balked, gripping the handle of the door tightly.

"Don't you cuss at me, Boy," Darius bellowed back.  "And I know what I'm doin'!  I been drivin' since way before you were born.  If any of us is fit to be drivin', it's me.  No matter how much you know about a truck, your daddy'll always know more'n  you!"

"Mr. King," Mark quickly addressed, hoping to add some levity to the situation, "I wanna run somethin' by you."

"What's that, Mark?"

"I've been thinkin'.  With everything that happened today, everybody's been through a lot.  People are bein' put through the ringer with this.  I want everybody to know that they always have a place at the plant and how much I care about 'em all.  I'm thinkin' that after everybody comes back to work, I give each and every person a raise.  I think it's only fair."

"That's mighty generous, Mark," Darius assured, "But I think the big thing is to make sure everybody gets all their paychecks while they're off and gets all the help they need through all this.  If all this mess gets cleared up right, and you still got money after that and wanna give those raises, go ahead.  it'd be good.  I know I sure won't be complainin'!  What about you, Boy," Darius asked of T.L.

"Nope.  Not me.  Sure won't.  I could use more money from anybody that wants to give it.  How much you thinkin'?"

"I don't know yet.  I'll run some numbers with Don, but speakin' optimistically, a dollar an hour for everybody, maybe more."  Mark, quite pleased at the notion, smiled, hoping that he could put his plan into action one day soon.

"That's on top of the raise we were already supposed to get, right," T.L. begged.

"What," Mark shouted so loudly that it caused Darius' ears to ring.  "You mean you didn't get the raise?!  I signed off on that right before I took my time off.  You should all already be gettin' it!"

"Nope," Darius and T.L. said in unison.

"Don't worry.  You will get your raise, plus the extra you should've gotten already from the raise, plus some bonus for your trouble.  The last I looked at the books, there's not one bit of financial trouble with the plant.  There's enough money that everything I said can be put in place.  You got my word, and my word is good enough to take to the bank."  Mark so often had little sayings about his word, but unlike so many other men, Mark always did his utmost to back up his word, and everyone who knew him knew that.

"Sounds good to me," Darius happily chuckled.  "Maybe me and the Mrs. can go on that trip I've been promisin' her for that past three years."

T.L., very pleased with Mark's promise, could not hold back his joy.  "Maybe I can finally convince Kerrie Mabley to go on a date with me.  When she sees me with a nice stack of cash in my hand, that girl is gonna be all over me!"

Darius' eyes enlarged, a little bewildered but not wanting to pass up an opportunity to embarrass his son.  "You tellin' me you're sweet on white girls now, Son?"

"Hey.  I know for a fact she doesn't discriminate.  I've seen that girl with some real ugly brothas.  And what can I say, Daddy?  That girl is one fine piece of... you know."

"Yeah.  I do know.  Just be careful with that, Boy.  She is a fine lookin' woman.  I see you got your ol' man's taste.  She might be easy on the eyes, but from what I've seen and heard, she's a real ball buster, and her family ain't exactly happy about her datin' outside her own race.  Them's some good ol' boys, the kind that don't take kindly to black men takin' up with white women.  Plus, you know how much that girl's been around?  She's like a town bicycle.  Everybody in town's had a ride on her."  Darius could not refrain from laughing at his own joke, chortling so hard that he could hardly control the truck.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," T.L. muttered.  "Maybe she has, but I can't resist.  Maybe she'll only be good for a ride, but oh, what a ride!"

"Just don't go makin' that girl your wife.  I ain't havin' no tramp in my family," Darius snapped.

"Don't worry about that, Daddy.  I don't think I'm gonna be findin' any wife material any time soon.  I'm still young.  I got time, but I need to have some fun."

"You know, T.," Mark chimed in, "There's a lot of other women around here, some a lot better lookin' than Kerrie Mabley and definitely a lot nicer and not so skeevy.  You could do a hell of a lot better.  What about Shawna Terulo?  She's a good lookin' girl and nice, and her family won't give you trouble.  Think it over, Dude.  That girl's got a lot more goin' on than any Mabley ever did!"

"You tellin' him he needs an Italian girl, Mark," Darius inquisitively added, still laughing uproariously. 

"She's only half-Italian, and she's not really what you call Italian-Italian.  She never knew her dad.  Her mom's
half-black. I think it makes a damn good mix, if you ask me.  If I wasn't with Shylah, I might go for her myself."  Mark felt a loathing feeling toward himself having said these words, as if he had betrayed Shylah in some way.

"Mark, you best be watchin' what you say around Shylah's family.  You be good to that girl and don't be gettin' ideas of no other girls," Darius replied, his deep laughter turning sinisterly serious.

"No worries, Mr. King," Mark assured the man.  "I would never wanna hurt Shylah.  I ain't about to do anything like that or leave your daughter.  She's all I want.  I'm just sayin' if I didn't have her... you know."

"Well," pondered Darius, "I suppose I'd be a little too tempted to take a crack at her myself."  As soon as T.L. shot an evil glance toward his father, Darius felt necessitated to reply, "I mean, if I didn't have your mama.  You know what I mean, Boy.  A man's still got needs, no matter how old he gets.  I still got the equipment."

"Well, both of you can just back off.  You got your women.  Kerrie is all mine, one way or another."  T.L. was very adamant about this demand.  He planned to ask Kerrie Mabley on a date as soon as he could feel confident enough, which he surmised would require getting ahold of the money Mark had talked about paying.

As the truck careened down the long, private dirt road to the Bedoe home, T.L. felt a deep anxiety yet a tremendous need to get out of the truck.  So much swam in his head at that moment, not knowing how Mrs. Bedoe would react at seeing Mark and feeling frustration toward his father and his constant remarks.

When the three men exited, the noise alerted the great multitude of dogs owned by the Bedoes, one alarming another and that, another, and so on until all seven of the dogs made such a racket as to raise the dead from their graves.  Mrs. Bedoe emerged from the house with breakneck speed, stomping as she went.  She was a rather large woman, what some might call morbidly obese.  She had had nine children in her twenty-three years of marriage to Tim Bedoe, her body never recovering from the ordeals. 

"What are you boys doin' here," Mary Jane asked in great fervor of excitement at seeing Darius and T.L., both of whom she had always had a great fondness for.  That was until she saw Mark's face, at which, Mary Jane began waving her arms.  "You get him out of here!  I don't wanna see Mark Crady or Tom Crady ever again!  It's cuz of them my Timmy is dead!  He'd be around to take care of his children if'n it wasn't for that damn steel plant!  Mark Crady, you ain't welcome here!  Get your narrow, deceivin' ass off my property 'for I shoot ya!"

"Lookee, Mary," Darius shouted, holding his right hand upward as a sign of peace.  "You known me near all your life.  Did I ever once give you reason not to trust me?"

"No.  I reckon you have not."

"Then, please hear us out, Mary.  Mark has somethin' he needs to say to you.  I wouldn't have brought him with me if I didn't trust him and think he's talkin' straight.  Just listen, and if you don't like what he has to say, we'll go."

"Ok, Mark," Mary frowningly answered, "You got two minutes.  After that, I'm gettin' my ol' 30-30."

At the sound of approval, Mark stepped forward toward Mary Jane.  "Mrs. Bedoe, I know you don't like me right now, and I don't blame you.  But I want you to know that I know what a good man Tim was."

"He was the best," cried Mary Jane, tears beginning to roll down her ample cheeks.

"Now, it is unfair what happened.  I agree with that.  It's a damn shame, and I want to make it right.  It's my Christian duty.  I am not my father.  I am not the same kind of man you know him to be, and I'm not here to try to defend him.  I run the plant now, and soon, I'll own it, too.  We are gonna do right by every single employee.  We are gonna guarantee that every expense for Tim's funeral is covered and that you still draw his paycheck for the rest of your life, plus some.  You will be fully taken care of.  You have my word.  I will make sure you and these kids have everything you ever need.  It's only right.  I could not live with myself if I did otherwise.  You gotta trust me.  I will prove it to you, and I'm not tryin' to buy you off.  I just wanna make sure ya'all, every single one of you, gets what you deserve.  I want you to not have to worry about money or the kids to have to worry about their future.  You'll always have what you need, so long as I'm alive."  Despite Mary Jane's jabbing diatribes, Mark felt relieved, knowing that he had spoken everything weighing on his mind regarding the Bedoes and had offered his helping hand.

"You can guarantee all this," Mary Jane asked, her arms crossed, the tears still spilling.

"Yes, I can.  You'll have no financial troubles.  And to show you a sign of good faith, if you'll accept, I want to start out with this."  Mark hurriedly pulled out his wallet and counted the cash he planned to give to the Bedoe family.  "This is only a start, and I promise you you're gonna get Tim's most recent paycheck very soon.  Here is five hundred and sixty-two dollars.  It's everything I have on me.  This is just me wanting to do right by you.  I swear to you I will keep every word I said."

Hesitatingly and quite reluctantly, Mary Jane slowly extended her hand, thinking of refusing the offer, but knowing that she had no other options without her husband around, she accepted the money.  "Thank you, Mark.  I don't like takin' no charity, though."

"Mary Jane," Darius chimed in immediately to defuse the situation, "It ain't charity.  It's rightfully owed to you and yours.  You got a lot of expenses comin' up, and if Mark wants to offer you money to help you out with all of that, you take it.  Don't you dare turn it away when you need it more'n anybody else!"

"Ok, Darius King.  I would have to reckon that to be the truth.  These kids gotta eat, and their daddy ain't around to take care of 'em.  I still got five that ain't growed up yet and another that is but ain't left the house.  This money's goin' on food."

"Mrs. Bedoe," Mark added, taking Mary Jane's hands in his, "If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, you call.  Tim was a great man and a longtime and very dedicated employee of the company.  If I didn't do right by you, I would not be able to call myself a Christian or a good boss.  Tim gave everything he had to the company and even gave his life for it.  I can never repay you for that, but I can make sure that I do all I can by his family." The sincerity in Mark's eyes convinced Mary Jane Bedoe that everything spoken was meant wholeheartedly. 

"I guess you ain't like your daddy, Mark.  He never woulda done this.  It's not easy losin' a husband or my kids losin' their father.  I don't know what I'm gonna do now, but I'm glad I got friends to be there for me."  Surprising to Mark, Mary Jane threw her arms around him and kissed him on his cheek.  "I suppose you need to go pay respects to Tanya Donovan.  Ya'all better get goin'."

"We're all here for ya, Mrs. Bedoe," Mark assured as he pulled away from the woman.  "Just know that."

As soon as Mark had released himself from Mary Jane's hold, a small boy, no older than seven years old, came running out of the front door and straight to Mark, stumbling into his legs.  "Hey, Mister."

Mark leaned down to face the boy, smiling.  "Hey there.  How are you, little boy?"

"Good.  I'm Henry, Henry Bedoe.  I'm six," the boy very happily announced, holding up six fingers.