Something She Can Feel

“Yeah. You have to give her an ‘A’ for effort.”

“What about Dad?”

“You couldn’t expect him to come around just yet,” I said. “And maybe he won’t ever really accept this, but I know he loves you.”

“I know that, too. I just wish he could at least look at me ... like he did when he could still pretend I was like him.”

“I think we’ve all had enough pretending,” I said. “It’s time to live real life now.”

“You’re right,” he said. “Maybe it’s good that Dad and everyone else down here recognizes that little sissies who switch and put on makeup come from their towns, too.”

“And their families.” I paused and hugged Justin. “I meant everything I said about you. I’m proud of you for being who you are. I know that it’s hard. I love you and I’ll always be in your corner. Justin or whoever. You’re always the baby.”

“I’ll always be Justin, too. Just on the inside now.” He smiled. “Now the outside is going to be the baddest diva this side of the Mason-Dixon Line!” We both laughed, and then his voice got serious. “But inside, I’ll always be Justin. Your baby brother. And I’m just as proud of you as you are of me. You stopped taking these people’s shit. That’s a lot to be proud of.”

After Justin and I hugged and said good-bye, I watched him walk toward the car and get into the driver’s seat beside our mother. It would be the last time, I thought, I’d see Justin as my brother. And to be honest, I was eager to see the outcome. How he’d be born again.

“Journey,” my mother called me to the car as Justin backed up toward the steps.

“Yes?” I answered, standing on tiptoe to avoid the icy gravel that had been cooled by the night air.

“Go spend some time with your father today at the church.”

“But I’m not feeling—”

“I didn’t ask you how you were feeling,” she said sweetly, but her position on the command was clear. “I told you. It’s time for you to get out of this house and speak to your father. You can’t hide forever.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said and I could see Justin sticking out his tongue at me over her shoulder.

“Wonderful.” She blew a kiss at me. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Chapter Thirty

Apparently, everyone in Tuscaloosa was following the story about Dame and me in Africa just as closely as my family. This was most evident when I walked into the lobby of the church and it seemed as if I’d arrived early to my own surprise birthday party gone horribly awry. The Red Sea splitting for Moses was far from me now. Instead, I was met with tight, pitiful smiles, weak well wishes, and a few unbroken stares. I supposed this reaction was what I should’ve expected. Gossip was gossip and because I was the major subject of the latest to hit our little community, I could expect to be the headliner for a little while. And while I’d tried my best to avoid the fake smiles and stares, my mother was right. The way this thing went was that I had to face all of the discomfort in order for it to subside. People would only be able to let it go if I was no longer a ghost or secret. I had to face the music.

“Jour-ney,” Sister Lenny said, breaking up my name into syllables as if I was a little kid at her first day of school. It was clear by her voice and smile that unlike the other ten or so people in the church bookstore she ran, who were staring at me with their eyes bulging, Sister Lenny wanted to help. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound like it was any other Monday and everyone else in the store hadn’t believed I was busy in Africa molesting one of my former students and killing folks.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re back. Are you looking for your father?”

“Yes, actually. Do you know if he’s in his office?”

“I believe so.” Sister Lenny looked at her watch. “His office hours start at nine, so he should be in there.”

“Office hours?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s a new thing we’re trying to get members more access to the pastor. I think it was your mother’s idea. We’ve just been doing it about two weeks. She has office hours here now, too.”

“Wow,” I said, remembering when we had lunch and my mother saying she wanted to find a way to get closer to members. “That’s great.”

My father’s office was the size of two of my classrooms put together. Inside, he had a conference table, counseling chair and couch, his desk, and a full library. It was huge and the floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched along the back of the room, showing off a man-made lake my father had built on the church campus, made it seem as if the space opened up even farther into the world outside.

“Daddy,” I said, poking my head in the door.

He looked up quickly and on his face was an expression of the same anxiety I’d felt about visiting him. I hadn’t spoken more than three words to him since I’d been home. There was nothing I could say that I didn’t feel gave him permission to have done the things he did. My mother could forgive him. Jr and Justin could keep their anger hidden so long as he stayed at a distance. But I wanted more. I wanted to understand how he could do something like that to my mother and then keep it from us all of those years. I wanted to know how he could do all of that and then just expect us to move on.

“Journey.” He waved me into the room. “Come in.”