Day 33 Read online

  “This entire situation is about you making peace with the pain you endured during your childhood. That’s it. We want you sleeping peacefully again, and we want you to understand that everything you went through was to make you into this strong, intelligent, and independent woman. Often times we feel as though we have to carry our parents’ burdens. You feel you have to carry your mother’s pain forward; the same resentment she had towards your father should continue in your life as well. That is not the case, this is not your burden to bear. You are free to change your story from a child who grew up in an abusive home, to a woman who has healed from the past and can create the life she’d love for herself.” Diana’s words were some of the most resonating sentiments Evita had ever been told.

  She felt empowered. The doctor was right. If Evita was able to mask all of these memories in order to be the boring Plain Jane in the Slam office, she could accept these memories in order to move past them and to become something greater. Evita assured Diana she’d be in touch and went home to pack a few things for an impromptu trip to Charlottesville, VA. At first, Evita thought maybe she should google information about the infamous Loraine, or at least try to find a phone number linked to 33 Coastal Place, but she decided against it. It was time to be brave enough to go with the flow. Whatever greeted her at that door, was what she was meant to find.

  A few hours and a couple of pit stops later, Evita finally reach the house in the back of a wooded area. It was night time now, and there was only one light beside the mailbox at the end of a long concrete driveway. From the road, Evita could barely see the house at all. She could hear the wind through the leaves bustling so loudly like something out of a horror film. Maybe Diana should’ve come with her, she thought. Maybe Evita should find a place to stay for the night and go home in the morning.

  Then, a light came on in the downstairs room of the house. About half a mile away, Evita could see a figure pass by the window. She realized the person could see her car lights. It was too late to turn back, and she proceeded up the driveway. The porch lights came on and Evita paused for a second. It was almost as if this woman expected her to come. She reached the top of the driveway and made sure the letters were secure in her purse. She took a deep breath and cautiously stepped out of the car, tiptoeing over dewy leaves. Once on the porch, Evita reached her open palm toward the door when suddenly, it cracked open.

  “Evita?” There she was. A gracefully aged Loraine, with long gray hair down to her hips, filled with loose waves as Evita sometimes remembered her own mother wearing. Loraine wasn’t scary, she was warm and welcoming. Her face had less wrinkles than Evita had imagined in her dreams and she wore a pale pink lipstick that made her light brown eyes and deep brown skin glow. She squinted to make Evita more recognizable.

  “Yes”, Evita’s voice was shaken. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. Tears almost flew from Loraine’s eyes as she wrapped her arms tightly around Evita’s small frame. She wept as she rubbed Evita’s back. Evita was in disbelief. Her grandmother had been here this entire time, and her father kept her hidden. Evita allowed her arms to squeeze Loraine just as snuggly. She felt the silk of her floral night gown against her forearms and a healthy back filled her hands.

  “Come in, baby girl, please, come in”, Loraine pulled Evita into the house and took her coat to hang it in the hall closet. Tears accompanied Loraine’s beautiful smile and Evita felt like she was home. The house was a small one-level, but it was immaculately clean. White walls with white tiles, and similar salt rock crystals to what Diana had. Loraine grabbed Evita’s hand and led her to the right side of the house into the living room.

  “Have a seat”, Loraine gestured to a very comfortable black leather couch atop a black fur rug. Evita could tell this house didn’t see much traffic. Everything was right in its place and spotlessly clean. The air was so clear and there wasn’t so much a smudge on any of the windows. Loraine offered Evita a drink, but she declined for now. She wanted to get down to business. Evita pulled about five letters from her purse and placed them on the glass coffee table. Loraine put her hands over mouth, surprised Evita had them.

  “You got them, you got my letters”, she said as more tears flowed down the side of her cheeks. Loraine hunched over and held Evita in her arms and sat next her.

  “I did”, Evita smiled and nodded, tears formed in her eyes as well. Loraine began apologizing in between her sobs, for not being there for Evita after Vivian’s passing. Evita assured her she understood Loraine’s heart, and knew that if The Reverend hadn’t kept her away, she’d be there.

  “What happened to my mother?” Evita cut Loraine’s apology short. It was no time for wallowing in pity. Loraine was taken aback. This was not the little girl Loraine remembered, cheery and peaceful. This was a woman out to avenge the death of her mother and she didn’t have time to walk down memory lane holding hands just yet.

  “What makes you ask after all these years?” Loraine grabbed Evita’s hand sincerely, letting her know she can trust her.

  “I’ve been having dreams, grand—, Lora—”

  “Grandma is fine, sweetie”, Loraine smiled, “what kind of dreams?” Evita described them one by one. She started with the very first dream where she saw her grandmother by the well and the small girl at the bottom screaming for help; all the way to the one that brought her here, with Loraine in the backseat of her car. Loraine’s concern seemed to ironically lighten up with every dream Evita told her, again, as if it was expected.

  “My dear, let me let you in on a little family secret”, Evita wasn’t really ready for that, but what other choice did she have, “we’re very special.” Loraine explained as she smiled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve heard of intuition?” Evita nodded in compliance, she’d heard the term before, but didn’t think she had much of it. She understood it as a way of knowing things that were left unsaid, and right now, Evita was more confused than ever. “Our intuition tends to be”, Loraine hesitated, “a bit stronger than others.”

  If their family had such “strong intuition” and knew so much, why didn’t they see the turmoil that The Reverend would bring unto their lives?

  “I saw it”, Loraine reluctantly admitted, “I knew your father was a bad person. Your mother knew, but so-called “love” and the need to escape from my ex-husband Roy, is what blinded her”, Evita hung her head in shame.

  “It’s no need to feel bad about it. We’re spiritual beings, but we are still flawed humans. We make mistakes, and we all at our core, just want to be loved. Some will do anything for it, including me.” Loraine further explained that Evita’s dreams want her to get justice for her mother. It was time for Evita to step into her power.

  “I don’t even know where to start.” Evita felt like she was running in circles, but Loraine and Diana had one thing in common, believing in Evita’s abilities more than she did. They told her she had all the keys to solve this puzzle, but Evita still felt extremely unequipped.

  “Go back home”, Loraine stated. Evita knew this was necessary, but was it really necessary? What would she even look for? Would The Reverend even welcome her inside his home? She knew she’d have to proceed cautiously. She wouldn’t contact her father and when she’d arrive, Evita would do so as quietly as possible.

  That evening, Loraine worried about Evita’s dreaming and created a soothing area for her to sleep near Loraine in her large master bedroom at the back of the house. There was a small day bed covered in pastel linens with hand-sewn decorative pillows displayed neatly in the back-left corner of the room. Loraine would sleep soundly on the opposite side. Evita lie under the comforter and Loraine tucked her in, making up for lost time.

  “I know you’re determined to help your mother, we’ll make time for one another soon, sweetie.” She kissed Evita’s cheek. Evita hadn’t felt such a surge of love since she last saw Vivian. A memory of her mother suddenly came to her just as her dreams
have been.

  It was the spring when Evita was 13 years old. Cherry Blossoms bloomed on the trees and the rain took a pause for this special day. Dandelions blew through the air and the breeze carried grass clippings through the fields. The night before, Vivian had left after cooking dinner and ensured Evita she’d be back before she went to bed. She wasn’t, which was strange, but not questioned by Evita. Evita didn’t remember her father being home last night either, but her parents hadn’t left with one another.

  The next morning, Vivian seemed a little out of sorts. She forced a smile on her face for Evita. Breakfast wasn’t spread on the table the same as most mornings, it was all still cooking. Vivian must’ve woken up later than usual. Evita sat at the table and waited patiently for Vivian to fix her plate, while she stared through the open window, viewing the fields between flying curtains. Vivian brought two large plates of fresh fruits, sausage patties and toast with homemade strawberry preserves. She flashed an arbitrary grin before taking her first bite. Evita could tell something was off.

  “Are you okay?” Vivian didn’t hear her, she continued eating. “Mom?”

  “I’m okay”, Vivian nodded frantically. They ate in silence. Vivian walked Evita to school, just as she had done for the past eight years. Vivian managed to let out a few giggles along the way, breaking the silence that daunted over their meal. Vivian kissed her daughter on the cheek and grabbed both hands securely.

  “Evita, you’re getting older now. There are going to be so many new experiences coming for you. I want you to know, no matter what, I love you and you are a beautiful young lady. I will always be with you”, she kissed her left hand and gave her a tight hug. To Evita, these were her mother’s normal, encouraging words. To Vivian, it was a warning. This was the last time they’d ever see each other.

  As Evita lie in her grandmother’s room, she reminisced on that last day so deeply that she could feel the wind and smell the cherry blossoms. The ceiling she stared at resembled that day’s clear blue sky. She could feel her mother’s lips on her hand again. She knew back then, at just 13 years old, that something was wrong with her mother, but the love she had for her, forced Evita to believe anything Vivian said. Evita felt a shortness of breath coming over her as tears began to flow down the sides of her face.

  There was a strong gust of wind as Loraine’s bedroom door flew open; there stood The Reverend. He looked the same way as he did the night Evita spent at Georgia’s apartment years back. He stood wearing the same trench coat, dripping with rain. Evita’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and she frantically jumped off of the day bed. Her jaw dropped but her throat couldn’t form any words. The Reverend stood there with his fists clinched. He breathed deeply and proceeded toward Evita. She looked over in Loraine’s direction who lie there, sound asleep. Evita squeezed her eyelids shut, hoping to make him disappear.

  Evita whispered to herself, “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming”, but when she opened her eyes he stood an inch in front of her, their chests almost touched. He repeatedly screamed at the top of his lungs “Leave!” The forehead veins came out to play and his face had a blood red tone underneath his dark brown skin. “I’m dreaming” Evita whispered again as tears pushed through the cracks of her clenched eyelids.

  The Reverend grew tired of screaming and grabbed her neck. Evita gasped for air and her eyes grew wide as she fought for relief. The Reverend squeezed so hard that the skin on Evita’s neck began to ooze through the spaces between his fingers. He picked her up by her throat and her legs dangled. Loraine finally caught wind of the situation and woke up startled. She immediately ran over to pry his hands from Evita’s throat, crying “stop!” as the choking continued. “Evita!

  Evita!” she screamed as her eyes welled with water.

  Evita woke up still gasping for air. Loraine was next to her stiff body, nudging Evita’s shoulders to wake her. The day bed was drenched and Evita frowned and kicked in her sleep, so Loraine was aware she was having another nightmare. The night time moon still glowed into the room

  “Are you okay? What happened, what was this one about?” Loraine asked as she rubbed Evita’s back to calm her down.

  “It was him, my dad”, Evita struggled to catch her breath. This actually startled Loraine.

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me to leave, he was choking me”, Evita explained as she rubbed her neck to soothe the imaginary pain, “I could feel it. It was so real.” Loraine wiped Evita’s sweat away. Evita took comfort in knowing her grandmother understood and after all these years of them being separated, she was still very nurturing. Loraine wondered if maybe, Evita shouldn’t go after all. She suggested finding someone to go with her.

  “I’m old, so, I’m a little helpless” Loraine joked with a calming smile. Evita declined. After all, Evita knew it was time for her to get everything over with and searching for help would only further delay the process. Loraine lie next to Evita on the day bed and dozed off. Evita stared at the ceiling afraid to fall asleep. She envisioned what she’d do when she finally saw her father again. Would she just come right out and accuse him of being a killer, or would she pussyfoot around the topic? Would she call the police to meet her at the house or gather evidence first? Would Clarice intervene? Evita just laid there, with bloodshot, watery eyes.

  DAY 27

  THE SUN shined onto the day bed and Loraine woke up peacefully to find Evita brushing her teeth in the adjacent bathroom. Loraine offered to cook Evita breakfast reminiscent of her childhood, but she asked Loraine not to worry herself.

  Evita wanted to head out right away.

  Evita rinsed the toothpaste from her mouth and rushed to give her grandmother a snuggly fit hug. Loraine kissed her on the cheek and asked that she be careful. Evita grabbed her bags and headed for the front door just when she remembered she needed a bit more of information.

  “Who is Michelle?” Evita inquired. Loraine’s face lost a couple of shades of brown at the sound of the name.

  “Sit down”, Loraine sternly instructed as she gestured to the day bed. Evita plopped beside the decorative pillows, preparing for a dark response.

  “As you grew older, your parents grew apart. Your father began travelling to different southern cities to preach as a guest and that is when he met Michelle”, Loraine explained, standing tall over her naïve granddaughter. Evita figured it was during his long vacations away, where she and her mother actually had peace in the home for extended periods of time. Loraine explained that Michelle was much younger at the time, probably still only 19 or 20 years old, while The Reverend and Vivian had now reached the ages of about 30.

  Michelle was the complete opposite of Vivian. Michelle wore her hair in long, thick, extension braids, with wooden beads on the end. She wore skin tight dresses and high heels that added a half of a foot to her stance. Michelle couldn’t cook or clean, as she was basically still a teenager. She had been long out of high school, but still under the thumb of her faux-overly-protective mother, who played the same roles at the local North Carolina church as Georgia did; bookkeeping, choir leader, bible study teacher, etc. Michelle would hang around the facilities late at night as an excuse to stay away from the house when her mother was home. Her mother allowed it under the guise of “well, it is church.”

  One Friday evening, The Reverend stayed late in one of the back offices preparing a sermon for the upcoming Sunday. He had been in the town for a week or two and had been acquainted with Michelle briefly during last week’s service. She wore a tight black dress that was long enough to disguise the skimpiness, but not from the eyes of The Reverend. He had been cheating on Vivian for years with women in his own church so this was nothing new, but Michelle was different.

  That night, Michelle approached The Reverend in the office and without even speaking a word, she immediately began removing her clothing. She wore a red and blue striped dress made of polyester which barely covered her body. The Reverend’s initial shock turned
to adoration as she seduced him in his office seat. She climbed on top of the desk, papers and all, straddling his files with opened legs, inviting him in. He took the bait.

  The Reverend still had three more weeks to go. Every single night for the first two weeks, Michelle stayed late at the church for some alone time with Reverend Thomas, including the nights when her mother was present, hosting extracurricular activities. Michelle’s mother thought nothing of her daughter’s increased attendance, as The Reverend knew how to schmooze with anyone enough to create trust. The entire last week of his visit, Michelle and The Reverend were bold enough to go back to his hotel room. Of course, neither of them ever suggested the use of protection.

  The Reverend had finally returned home to his wife, child, and his beloved Virginian church. Meanwhile, Michelle had to explain to her God-fearing mother that she got pregnant by a much older man, who was only pretending to be God-fearing himself. Upon receiving the news, her mother immediately kicked her out with no place to go, and the church shunned her as well. Michelle became justifiably frantic, and began scrounging for money, bumming on the couches of old friends, and sneaking into old run-down motels to sleep for free. After few months passed, she finally reached her breaking point and called The Reverend’s house. This was a mistake.

  The first time Michelle called, the phone went to voicemail as Vivian was outside in the garden, Evita was at school, and The Reverend was with his new local mistress. The second time however, later that night, Michelle called and Vivian answered. The Reverend was at the church for a meeting. The two of them went back and forth as Michelle tried to explain The Reverend was in love with her, and that Vivian should leave.

  “Don’t ever call my fucking house again!” Vivian slammed the phone. Evita was in her room reading before bed when she overheard the screaming. This was the first time she ever heard her mother curse in all her 13 years. Was her mother angry about the infidelity or the fact that now it stared her directly in the face, and was something she could no longer deny? Now there was also concrete evidence that The Reverend wouldn’t even be able to deny himself, a baby.