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Authors: Beverly Toney
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Veronica.”
Either Veronica had
just made the best grilled cheese sandwich I had ever eaten or I was
starving. It really didn’t matter because my stomach was full
and I was ready to get some answers. I pushed back from the table and
watched Veronica as she took my plate to the dishwasher and left the
kitchen with the rest of the staff, leaving me alone with Tabitha and
Solomon.
“ Chey,”
Tabitha started, using my nickname for the first time since this had
all began.
It felt good and
familiar, as if everything would turn out okay in the end. But, I
wasn’t naïve enough to believe that anything would be okay
again. She must have realized that I wasn’t listening because
she stopped talking and put her hands on her hips in defiance.
“ Look,
Tabitha, you can’t expect me to just be okay. You can’t
expect me to act normal; as if people weren’t after me.”
“ You’re
right and I’m sorry. It’s just that…,” her
voice trailed off.
“ It’s
just what?”
Tabitha looked down at
her hands because she was at a loss for words. For the first time in
the last few days I saw that my friend was just as conflicted as I
was, possibly more. What was it about my life that could have such an
impact on her?
Solomon stepped up and
cleared his throat.
“ Tabitha.
Cheyenne. They are waiting for us.”
Tabitha raised her head
until our eyes met. There was pleading and apology in them as if she
wanted to change what was about to happen. A chill spread through my
body and I became paralyzed with fear. At that moment I had the
sinking feeling that I would be safer in the hands of Raphael and the
Grigor character. A feeling that was not at all comforting.
Solomon led the way to
a set of double doors at the end of a very wide and elegant hallway.
He lifted the ancient door knocker all of the way and let it fall.
The resulting noise filled the hallway and made my ears ring, but the
door was not immediately opened. For the next 5 minutes we continued
to stand outside of the closed doors in silence. I looked from
Tabitha to Solomon for any sign of annoyance or distress only to find
them patiently waiting for our knock to be answered. After a few more
moments, the double doors were pulled open my two very large men in
black uniforms. Each of them bowed slightly in both Tabitha and my
directions before they turned to stand with their backs against the
wall.
Solomon stepped over
the threshold before us and disappeared into the candlelit room. I
followed Tabitha as she walked at a steady pace toward something at
the rear of the room. As we walked, I admired the architecture. There
were large beams of wood intersecting at even intervals across the
cathedral ceiling. In between some of the beams were narrow skylights
that allowed the moon to shine in. The floors were a mahogany wood
with a pine inlay giving it an overall dramatic look. There were
candle sconces on the walls even though I was sure the room had
electricity.
It took me a moment to
realize that we were not alone. As soon as I dragged my attention
away from the architecture, I saw them. On a raised dais on the far
side of the room sat seven people. In the center position was Efia,
Tabitha’s adoptive mother. I knew Efia from the times I had
visited Tabitha at her house, but I was still struck by her beauty.
It was unusual that a person of African descent would adopt someone
so obviously not African like Tabitha, but the two of them were so
devoted to each other that it made sense. Efia was from Ghana, spoke
the language and wore the clothing. She owned an international
marketing company and provided Tabitha with a lifestyle that any high
school girl would dream of. Like so many nights before, I wondered
what my life would have been like if Efia was my mother.
Anger and confusion
raced through me. My foster mom had been great and I had never wanted
to change that. She raised me by herself and struggled to make sure I
had the best that she could offer, or so I was
Either Veronica had
just made the best grilled cheese sandwich I had ever eaten or I was
starving. It really didn’t matter because my stomach was full
and I was ready to get some answers. I pushed back from the table and
watched Veronica as she took my plate to the dishwasher and left the
kitchen with the rest of the staff, leaving me alone with Tabitha and
Solomon.
“ Chey,”
Tabitha started, using my nickname for the first time since this had
all began.
It felt good and
familiar, as if everything would turn out okay in the end. But, I
wasn’t naïve enough to believe that anything would be okay
again. She must have realized that I wasn’t listening because
she stopped talking and put her hands on her hips in defiance.
“ Look,
Tabitha, you can’t expect me to just be okay. You can’t
expect me to act normal; as if people weren’t after me.”
“ You’re
right and I’m sorry. It’s just that…,” her
voice trailed off.
“ It’s
just what?”
Tabitha looked down at
her hands because she was at a loss for words. For the first time in
the last few days I saw that my friend was just as conflicted as I
was, possibly more. What was it about my life that could have such an
impact on her?
Solomon stepped up and
cleared his throat.
“ Tabitha.
Cheyenne. They are waiting for us.”
Tabitha raised her head
until our eyes met. There was pleading and apology in them as if she
wanted to change what was about to happen. A chill spread through my
body and I became paralyzed with fear. At that moment I had the
sinking feeling that I would be safer in the hands of Raphael and the
Grigor character. A feeling that was not at all comforting.
Solomon led the way to
a set of double doors at the end of a very wide and elegant hallway.
He lifted the ancient door knocker all of the way and let it fall.
The resulting noise filled the hallway and made my ears ring, but the
door was not immediately opened. For the next 5 minutes we continued
to stand outside of the closed doors in silence. I looked from
Tabitha to Solomon for any sign of annoyance or distress only to find
them patiently waiting for our knock to be answered. After a few more
moments, the double doors were pulled open my two very large men in
black uniforms. Each of them bowed slightly in both Tabitha and my
directions before they turned to stand with their backs against the
wall.
Solomon stepped over
the threshold before us and disappeared into the candlelit room. I
followed Tabitha as she walked at a steady pace toward something at
the rear of the room. As we walked, I admired the architecture. There
were large beams of wood intersecting at even intervals across the
cathedral ceiling. In between some of the beams were narrow skylights
that allowed the moon to shine in. The floors were a mahogany wood
with a pine inlay giving it an overall dramatic look. There were
candle sconces on the walls even though I was sure the room had
electricity.
It took me a moment to
realize that we were not alone. As soon as I dragged my attention
away from the architecture, I saw them. On a raised dais on the far
side of the room sat seven people. In the center position was Efia,
Tabitha’s adoptive mother. I knew Efia from the times I had
visited Tabitha at her house, but I was still struck by her beauty.
It was unusual that a person of African descent would adopt someone
so obviously not African like Tabitha, but the two of them were so
devoted to each other that it made sense. Efia was from Ghana, spoke
the language and wore the clothing. She owned an international
marketing company and provided Tabitha with a lifestyle that any high
school girl would dream of. Like so many nights before, I wondered
what my life would have been like if Efia was my mother.
Anger and confusion
raced through me. My foster mom had been great and I had never wanted
to change that. She raised me by herself and struggled to make sure I
had the best that she could offer, or so I was
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