Under the Cypress Moon (35 page)

Mark rushed to the clinic so fast that Shylah was certain he would wreck the truck on the way.  Mark screeched into the parking lot and zoomed into the first close spot that he could find, urging Shylah to hurry.  Mark needed to know right away what the results of the test were so that he could begin to prepare himself, no matter what they would be.  If they were positive, Mark knew that he would be joyous as could possibly be, and if they were negative, he would find peace with it somehow.  He felt that it might even be a relief of sorts.  Either way, he would take it all in calmly and do his utmost to process it.

Mark and Shylah waited in the doctor's exam room for what seemed an eternity.  When the door finally creaked open, both could feel their hearts sinking with anticipation and worry yet skipping beats with excitement.

"Ms. King, glad you could make it.  I take it this is the father.  Oops.  Sorry.  I didn't mean to tell you like that.  Excuse me.  I'll try again.  Ms. King, I have wonderful news for you."  The doctor was a hard man to read.  Mark did not know if the man had actually meant to spill the beans the way that he had or if it had truly been an accident.

"Wow," Shylah shouted, throwing her hands over her face.  "Wow!"

Mark stepped ever so closely to Shylah's side, embracing her with both hands, smiling so hard that his face hurt.  "I can't believe it!  Wow is right, Baby!  We're gonna have a little one!  I'm gonna have me a son!"

"Well, Sir," the doctor butted in, "I wouldn't count my chickens too soon.  There is no way to know this early in the pregnancy what the sex of the child is.  It could just as easily be a daughter.  There are even some rare cases where it's neither, but that's neither here  nor there.  That's so rare I won't even go into that.  Just prepare yourselves for the possibility of either sex.  If I were you, I'd only start buying things that are unisex, unless you just wanna spend a whole lotta money buyin' both boy stuff and girl stuff.  It can get pretty dang expensive just goin' with one sex.  Trust me.  I've not only seen it from patients, but I have four of my own.  Now, Ms. King, if you will just lie back for me.  I'd like to do what is called a limited ultrasound just to verify that you are, indeed pregnant, that the fetus is developing properly, and that it is in fact, well within the uterus."

"Ok," Shylah nervously replied, leaning back all of the way onto the examining table. 

Within only a few minutes, the doctor began to prod away at Shylah's belly.  "Looks good, all of it.  I don't see one single anomaly.  The baby's heart rate is very good.  It is in the uterus and looks completely healthy for a baby of this stage of development."

"How far along am I, Doctor?  I just wanna make absolutely sure."

"Sure of what," Mark bellowed.

"Oh, calm down, Mark," Shylah snapped.  "There is nothin' to worry about.  You're the father.  I told you that.  You're the only guy that's touched me in a long time!  I just wanna know where we are right now with this.  Just sit back down and shut up!"

"If I had to give you a conception date, from all of what I'm seeing, I would say August twelfth, Ma'am," replied the doctor.  "So, you are exactly seventeen days along."

"That was...," Mark thought aloud.  "That was on a Tuesday.  That was right after we got together.  Wow!  That happened fast!"

"I told you, Honey," Shylah replied, gripping Mark's hand.  "I'm sorry I snapped, Baby.  But yeah, it did happen fast.  Are you upset we weren't more careful?  I don't know about you, but I'm excited!"

"I am, too, Babe.  Don't worry.  It's just a shock.  Looks like we got a lot to do, don't we?"

"We sure do, Baby.  We sure do.  We can do this!  You're gonna be a great daddy!  I just know it!"  Shylah leaned over, her belly still smeared with the ultrasound jelly, to give Mark a passionate kiss, her hand bracing Mark's face, caressing it as she went.

Within only a few more minutes, a follow up visit had been arranged, and Mark and Shylah emerged from the clinic triumphantly, Shylah jumping in the air with joy.  "We're gonna have to tell everybody soon, Baby, but for now, we need to celebrate!"

"Baby," Mark replied, "We kinda have the matter of Tim Bedoe's wake tonight.  We don't really have a lot of time for anything else, and we haven't found anybody to watch my dad while we're gone or tomorrow for the funeral, for that matter."

"Call Patty," Shylah prompted, still skipping and jumping all the way to the truck.

"Who?"

"Your dad's nurse, Patty."

"Oh.  Yeah, but she's not scheduled for today."

"She said if we needed anything to let her know.  I bet if you offer her some money, she'll go for it."

"Can't I just hire a babysitter.  I mean, he sleeps most of the time.  I'm sure some high school girl would be happy if I paid her fifty or a hundred bucks."

"No, Mark, no.  You need somebody that knows what they're doin'.  Who better than his nurse?  Call her.  Offer her whatever you want.  I'm sure if it's high enough, she'll bite.  Just try."

"Ok, Babe.  I'll call," Mark agreed, doubting that he would have any success in the matter.

Luckily for Mark, Patty accepted the offer.  At first, she was very reluctant, not wanting to give up her Friday night and especially not pleased to possibly have to stay the night and not get home until the next afternoon.  She refused Mark's initial offer of two hundred dollars and even his offer of five hundred dollars, but once Mark mentioned paying one thousand dollars, Patty answered affirmatively, giddy at the notion of making so much for less than a day's work.

Everything was well planned and going smoothly, though to Shylah's dissatisfaction, there would be no celebrating for a while.  The Bedoe home was so packed when Mark and Shylah arrived that they could scarcely find parking.  It was good, Mark told himself, that the property was substantial, allowing for so many vehicles and so many people.  Cars and trucks lined the entirety of the long drive.  As the couple walked toward the house, they saw an exorbitantly large crowd gathered outside, having spilled through the front door.

Mark and Shylah could barely fit through the door with so many others standing guard.  Everywhere the two looked, there was food, so much glorious food, looking as if the world's largest buffet had been assembled inside the Bedoe home.  With so much going on, the couple had not had time to make anything but only stopped by the local grocery store to pick up a few things to add to the culinary melee. 

The saddest part of the affair was not that Tim Bedoe was gone.  It was not the overwhelming grief of Tim's widow, Mary Jane.  What seemed too difficult to bear was watching and listening to little six-year-old Henry bawl at the top of his lungs for his father.  His mother set a small stool next to the casket for Henry to climb up and say goodbye to his father.  As soon as he saw his father's face, however, he lost himself in immeasurable sorrow. 

Mark could not stand to watch.  Having already paid his respects and given his condolences to the family, Mark stepped out of the room, back into the kitchen, dragging Shylah with him.  "Baby, I don't know how much more of this I can take!"

"What do you mean? You wanted to come here.  Remember?"

"I know, but I can't watch that little boy.  It's breaking my heart to see him like that.  I know it's my fault."

Shylah could not contain herself upon hearing these words, screaming so loudly that it immediately caught the attention of all standing near.  "It is not your fault, and don't you ever say that again!  It's nobody's fault really, but if there is some sort of blame here, it's all cuz your dad wouldn't do what he should've and upgrade his equipment!  You didn't do it!  You're tryin' to fix everything that he caused!  If I ever hear you say that again, that any of this is your fault, I can't even begin to tell you the trouble you're gonna have, Marcus Crady!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Mark sheepishly and slowly responded, hanging his head.  Mark, at that moment, felt a want deep within him, a want that he might give heed to if not for Shylah and for the baby.  That want was that he could slink off into some deep, dark hole and die.

"Do you feel like leavin', Baby," Shylah yelled over the loud clamor of people.

"Maybe we should.  I don't know that it'll do any more good us stayin'.  We said what we came to say and paid respects to Tim.  I don't know.  I don't want anybody to be mad if we leave, but I know I can't see little Henry like that again.  I don't really know what to do, to be tell you the truth."  Mark began to breathe uncontrollably, nearly hyperventilating.  Shylah took immediate notice of his condition and had little idea what she could do to help, other than to make a simple suggestion.

"Babe, tell ya what," Shylah retorted, "you just go outside, and have yourself a smoke. Calm down, and breathe a little easier.  Come back in when you feel better, and we'll figure out what to do then.  Ok?  Just go take a breather.  I'll be here when you get back."

"Ok.  Good idea," Mark sighed, still trying to catch his breath.

Not long after Mark made it outside, a man that had been standing in the doorway of the kitchen, listening in, moved toward Shylah.  "Hey, little lady.  You know who I am?"  The man, though wearing nice, fairly expensive-looking clothing, reeked of beer and stale smoke and had a greasy appearance to his hair.

"Not off of the top of my head.  You look a little familiar.  Not really sure, though."

"I'm your new boyfriend," chuckled the man.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is.  I'm Delbert Ray Johnson, the man of your dreams.  I know you been waitin' for me for a long time, so I thought I'd come answer your prayers.  Here I am.  What's your next two wishes?"

"My first wish is for you to go away, but I guess that ain't gonna work.  Why don't you go find some other woman?  I have a boyfriend, so I'd appreciate it if you would leave me be, Sir."

As Shylah attempted to walk away, Delbert grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer to him.  "Hey, I'm just bein' friendly.  I think you're real pretty, and I'd like to get to know you."

"Well," Shylah replied, doing all that she could to pull away, "Like I said, I have a boyfriend, and if he sees you doin' this, he'll knock you on your ass.  You might wanna let go of me."

Once again, Shylah was pulled backwards into the man.  "I'm not doin' nothin' wrong here, and I won't take no for an answer.  Why don't you come home with me, and we can have some fun.  I'll make it worth your while.  How much you want?"

"How much do I want for what?!"

"Don't be coy with me.  You know what I mean.  I know your kind."

"My kind?!  What do you mean by that?  A woman?  A black woman?  I'd strongly recommend you take your hands off of me."

Luckily, Lou Sanders witnessed some of the ordeal and ran out to tell Mark.  Upon seeing Mark, cigarette in hand, Loud let loose a torrent.  "Mark!  Mark, I don't mean to bother you while you got you a cigarette, but there's a guy inside got his hands all over Shylah.  I ain't real sure what's goin' on, but it looks bad.  I don't know if she's flirtin' with him or not, but they are pretty cozy together.  You might wanna head on in and see what's goin' on."

"Thanks, Lou," Mark replied, throwing his cigarette quickly to the ground and rushing up the stairs of the porch, followed by Lou.

When Mark saw what was happening, he, too, did not know if Shylah had taken part in it all or if everything was being done by Delbert.  The scene was difficult to ascertain, Shylah backed up against the other man, his hands wrapped tightly still around Shylah's waist.

"Let go of her," Mark screamed at Delbert, pointing his finger at the man.

"This your woman?"

"Yep.  She's my girlfriend, and if you don't take your hands off of her, we're gonna have a problem."

Seeing that Mark was there to save her, Shylah finally pulled away, only to be pulled back by the shoulder.  Shylah quickly spun around and slapped the man.  Turning back to face Mark, she vehemently protested the situation.  "Mark, I swear, it wasn't me!  He put his hands all over me, and I tried several times to get away.  I told him I had a boyfriend.  He wouldn't take no for an answer. I'm sorry, Baby!  I'm so sorry, but it wasn't me!"

Mark wanted desperately to believe Shylah's words.  Feeling that something must be done, Mark pulled Shylah by the hand closer to him as he stepped forward to confront the other man further.  "I suggest, Del Johnson, you get your ass out of here before I kick it all over this property!"

"You know him," Shylah asked from behind Mark's back.

"Yeah, I know this piece of shit.  He's Tim Bedoe's cousin, not one bit like Tim.  Imagine the exact opposite.  That's why he hardly ever shows his face in this town.  Nobody likes him!"

"You callin' me names, Boy," Delbert snapped.  "You think you can kick my ass?  That's a laugh.  I got at least three inches on you, Boy, plus I'm a hell of a lot bigger.  You don't look like you could knock the warts off a toad.  Why don't you just go in the other room with the rest of the women before you get hurt?"

"That's funny.  First of all, I know I can whoop the shit out of you, but second, you might wanna look behind you."  Mark laughed until he was red in the face, though it seemed to have no effect on Delbert.

"Behind me?  What am I gonna see behind me?  You think I'm gonna fall for that," Delbert finished asking at the very moment that he felt a tap on his shoulder.  Turning, he came face to face with T.L.