We Take this Man (29 page)

“Hi, my name is Alicia Dixon. I mean, Alicia Wilson.”

She frowned at me. “Ah-huh.”

“I was married to your brother.”

“What brother?”

“Dwight.” I paused for her to absorb it. “We met in Maryland and—”

“I think you have the wrong Dwight. My brother has been married to the same woman for ten years.”

“I know. Dwight and I had a baby and they brought my baby back here and I’m just trying to find him. Can you find them? Can you help me?”

“Do you think I’m fucking crazy? I’m not helping you. For all I know, you’re crazy.”

She closed the door in my face. Her eyes told me that she didn’t believe a word I said. I rang the doorbell again and this time she spoke through the door.

“Get off my damn property!”

I kicked her door like she was in cahoots with them. I yelled to release my frustration and stormed to my car. My mother looked at me. “Alicia, look at you.”

I snapped. “What!”

“We need to check in first, clean up, and present you as someone to be believed.”

I beat on the steering wheel and yelled, “I gotta find my baby.”

She spoke calmly. “If you don’t clean yourself up, they are going to make you the crazy woman.”

Momentarily, I considered it, but I decided to go to another address. I assumed it was Dwight’s mother’s house. When no one answered, I crept to the back of the house. I was convinced someone was there. As I tried to peep in the kitchen window, my mother came around to get me. “Let’s get out of here before you get yourself arrested.”

We walked back to the car. Finally, I said, “Maybe we should head back to the hotel and get cleaned up.”

“Yes. You can’t fight fire with fire. Make yourself look worthy. These people don’t know you. You’re some stranger claiming their family members stole your baby. Who do you think they’ll believe?”

I nodded and entered the hotel address into my GPS. Tears rolled from my eyes as I silenced my anger with the navigator’s voice. When we got to the hotel, my mother made a brilliant suggestion. She decided we should make flyers claiming they had kidnapped my son. I downloaded pictures from the Internet of me holding DJ, pictures of Tracey and Dwight, pictures of me and Dwight, and put them on a flyer. The heading read, kidnapped: have you seen this child? I added: these people have my son. help me find him. if you see these people, please call me. And I left my cell phone number.

I took a shower and changed my clothes. We printed up hundreds of flyers. I drove back to the two neighborhoods and I put them everywhere. I was sure neighbors would be shocked to know they were kidnappers. We posted the flyer on every pole or light post in the development and we put them on people’s doors. We went to the house and knocked on the door and no one answered. We parked the car in the driveway and waited and waited. We left twice to grab a bite to eat. Finally, around ten o’clock, an officer drove up and parked behind me. I got out to explain the situation. He flashed a light in my eyes.

“Alicia Dixon.”

I blocked the light with my hands. “Yeah.”

“This is private property and you have to leave.”

I pointed to the house. “These people, who own this house, they stole my son.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry. The neighbors are complaining. They say the owners are concerned that you are harassing them. If you don’t leave quietly, I’ll have to arrest you.”

My mother stepped out of the car and pulled my arm. “C’mon, Alicia, let’s go.”

I yanked away from her. “No. I’m not leaving until I get DJ.”

The officer said, “Either you’re leaving or you’re going with us.”

“Are there any laws to protect me? They steal my son and they have all the damn rights.”

He took a deep breath like he’d grown impatient with me. “If you want to file a complaint against them, you can, but you have to get off their property.”

I ran and sat on the grass. “I’m sitting right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

My mother pleaded with me and the officer pulled out his cuffs. I didn’t care. I’d go to jail before I’d walk away quietly and that’s exactly what I did. My mother followed the police car to the station. I tried to explain the situation to the officers during the ride. They laughed as if I was making this all up.

I had nothing but pictures to prove the truth. They had the birth certificate and some bogus document claiming I gave them full custody. The officers laughed and asked sarcastic questions. I stopped speaking and stared out the window. Dwight and Tracey drove alongside the police car. When I looked at them, they all clicked their tongues at me. Even DJ pointed and laughed. I yelled, “Give me my baby back.”

The officers said, “Miss, you can’t scream in this car like that.”

“But look, they’re harassing me now!”

“Who?”

I looked at the same car I was just staring at and strangers were inside paying me no attention. Anxiety began to take over me. I swore they were just there. Why did I feel so helpless?

They concocted this clever plan and I never saw it coming. Suddenly, I began to laugh. How could I be this silly? I laughed harder. I’m much smarter than this. One officer said to the other, “She needs a psych eval.”

“I don’t. I swear I don’t. I know this sounds too crazy to be true, but it is. I swear. My mother can vouch for me.”

They ignored me and continued talking as if I wasn’t there. “Let’s just take her in and let the doctor decide.”

Then he turned to me. “Is that your mother following us?” I didn’t respond, but he continued, “She’s right behind us. Hopefully, the commissioner can see you tonight. And listen to me, if you want to get out of here, don’t tell him that story.”

I asked, “Does it sound that crazy?”

They laughed and in unison said, “Yes.”

I hung my head. Obviously, I sounded like a basket case. I didn’t know what to do next. Did I have any rights? All I wanted to do was make this right.

Inside the jail, I prayed. Lord, I swear this is my Scared Straight program. I swear off all men from this point. They are all the same. I became overemotional just thinking about everything.

I sat there waiting to be seen by the commissioner and started thinking about my next move. This was clearly going to be a fight.

I was released on my own recon three hours after I had been booked. My mother was still in the parking lot. She claimed she had been calling Dwight to no avail.

“Ma, this is not going to be easy. They must have been planning this for a long time.”

She rested her hand on top of mine. “But you’re a fighter. You’ve always been a fighter. No way in the world you gonna let some country bumpkin ruin your life like this.”

“It just feels like someone ripped my heart from my chest.”

“Yeah, a little pain ain’t never stopped nobody. And it ain’t going to stop you. You can’t ball up and cry now. We got work to do.”

Maybe her desire to fight came from all the years of lying down and letting people walk over her. I was happy she wanted to assist in my battle. I nodded. “You’re right. We’re not leaving here empty-handed.”

We went to court the next day to file for custody. When it came to the address, I wrote the address to the house where we were. I was told that they would send me a court date. I begged the bailiff to help me. It was crucial that I know a date before leaving Jacksonville. My charm got me an expedited court date, one month away. By now, I’d realized that throwing a tantrum didn’t help my case, so I accepted the date.

Still, I stayed in Jacksonville for the remainder of that week. After going to their home every day, with no sign of them, I decided it would be best that I go home and return for my court date. It killed me, but I had bills, a child, and a mother to take care of. On the plane ride home, I got these sharp pains in my chest.
Please, Lord, don’t let me die without seeing my baby again.

When we arrived in Maryland, I started to regret my decision to return home. But on the other hand, I was at peace knowing they would never do anything to hurt DJ. Then again, I didn’t really know anything about them.

CHAPTER 49

Tracey

I
tried to explain to Dwight after I got arrested that this was what I was referring to when I said Alicia’d seek revenge. Considering she was searching for us, we had to hide out and it wasn’t right. It was very embarrassing. When I received strange phone calls from neighbors telling me she was posting signs in the neighborhood, I decided to call the cops. I wanted her to feel what I felt.

We went over to Mama Dee’s for a barbecue to celebrate our return. When we walked in the door, she snatched DJ from my hands. It was the grandson she’d been waiting for. She didn’t say two words to Des and Jordan. Danielle always told me she was partial to boys. That’s probably why Danny has such low self-esteem, but I hope she didn’t plan on neglecting them. “Mama Dee, do you see the girls?”

She gave them hugs and kisses. Then she popped Dwight upside the head. “Boy, now you know I raised you to make better choices.”

He seemed to be real irritated. He’d been slightly grouchy since we left Maryland. I think he was so frustrated and beating himself up for being so wrong about Alicia. I rubbed his back. “It’s okay. Everything is better now. We are going to get through this.”

When we moved back into our home, everything was just right. The paint was still fresh. All the pieces fell back into place. Even Dwight came around more and more each day. And our little DJ, he belonged here and not with her.

When we were subpoenaed to court for the custody of Dwight Wilson Jr., I was nervous. I heard that all kinds of crazy stuff happens in court. Danny even said sometimes judges give kids back to drug-addicted and abusive mothers and other times justice prevails. Alicia wasn’t all the things that I made her out to be, but clearly she didn’t deserve to raise him. And the girls would miss DJ dearly. But I was equipped with all the evidence I’d need to paint the picture I wanted to paint. Ms. Alicia, that’s what you get for stealing my husband. I was not having it.
No, ma’am.

CHAPTER 50

Alicia

T
he past month was hell. I received one e-mail of substance from Dwight and he sent pictures often with no message included. The icebreaker message told me that he didn’t know me. He thought I was a bad mother. He knew I’d used drugs and what he seemed most angry about was that he wasn’t the first married man I’d dated. He stated stability and family values as reasons why he and Tracey felt they’d be better parents. I could give a damn. That baby came out of me. He belonged to me. No matter what they thought, I was his mother and it was my job to raise him. Whatever they thought I didn’t know was subjective. I’ll give him the values I feel he needs.

He suggested in his message that DJ could come visit over the summer, but not until he gets used to the arrangement. What gave him the balls to think this proposal made sense? Each time I thought about that message, I got angry. I got more angry as I packed my suitcase on my way back to Jacksonville. I retained a female attorney in Jacksonville. Judging from her record and our phone conversations, she knew what she was doing and she saw no reason the judgment couldn’t be reversed.

My mother and I arrived the night before the court date. I was so tempted to go to their house and just steal DJ and get back on the plane. Then make them prove that they deserved to have him. My good sense told me that would probably guarantee that I’d never see my son again. I planned to do it and do it right.

My heart pounded when I entered the courtroom. They sat there and neither of them turned around. I sat across the room and envied them. I hated how united they appeared. My knees shook and my palms were sweaty. I could choke Tracey.

My attorney clenched my hand. “Alicia, stay cool. The absolute worst thing you could do is lose your cool.”

I nodded and bit my bottom lip. Every muscle in my body was tense. Dwight caught me staring at them. Something in his eyes apologized to me. I mouthed, “Why?”

He hung his head and I just wanted to get him alone. She’d obviously manipulated him. Hell, she manipulated both of us. She fooled the shit out of me. Maybe, instead of hating her, I should give her a standing ovation. Damn if I wanted my son being raised by a master manipulator.

When the judge entered, my lawyer turned to me. “You ready?”

The judge was a relatively young-looking sistah, but she was expressionless. After shuffling around some papers, she put on her glasses and the bailiff stated the case. Wilson vs. Dixon. The court was called to order. The judge said, “Now why are we here, Ms. Dixon?”

I began, “Your Honor, the Wilsons took my son without permission and they are claiming that I signed over custody and I didn’t.”

She snickered. “Now, how did they take your son? First of all, how do you know the Wilsons?”

I took a deep breath. “Well, Dwight . . . I mean, Mr. Wilson and I were in a relationship.”

“You were in a relationship with this woman’s husband?”

“Yes, but at the time they were separated. We had a son.”

“This is the child in question, Dwight Jr.?”

“Yes, and when Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Wilson rekindled their relationship, we all participated in raising him.”

She huffed. “You skipped a whole lot in there, but go on.”

“When they decided to move back here, they packed up and left from right under my nose. I went to work one day and they snuck away. When I tried to report him missing, I found out about me supposedly signing over custody to them.”

She turned to them. “Now, let me hear your side of the story.”

Tracey spoke, “Your Honor, Ms. Dixon is a longtime drug user and when she drinks and gets high, she says things like she doesn’t want to be a mother.”

I shouted out, “Oh my God, she is lying.”

“Ms. Dixon, please don’t blurt out in my court.”

I nodded. She looked at Tracey, who was anxious to tell her lies. Tracey smiled innocently at the judge. “I have evidence of her crazy lifestyle.” She whipped out letters she claimed were from my lesbian lover and letters from Deshaun. What the hell? It took everything in me not to strangle her. She continued, “I have court records dating back ten years where Ms. Dixon herself claimed to be a chronic drug user.”